


The Princess and the Assassin

by nerdgirlwalking



Series: Catalyst Verse [4]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, F/F, Minor Crossover Characters, No I'm not tagging them, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-08-12 08:03:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 52,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7927048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdgirlwalking/pseuds/nerdgirlwalking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things have been quiet for The Champion of Thornhill and her wayward princess as of late. Not that Ser Shaw would complain. She's found that having a true home is sort of nice. Being able to enjoy it in relative peace, better still. Unfortunately for Shaw, the past has a way of returning to spank you on the ass when you’re least expecting it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Feel like we're just now gettin it

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! After a summer of many fix-its and fuck you and your glasses Harolds, I am back with another addition to this random little fairy tale. This one will be a multi-chapter (at least five and a short epilogue, depending on how it breaks could end up with 6-7). Looking to begin with once a week updates and when I get everything wrapped up how I want it, I may throw a couple up per week for the final few.  
> Big overdue/advanced thank you to everyone who's commented along the way here and on twitter. I would awkwardly Shaw-hug all of you if I could. You're lovely and make me blush on the regular. I hope this one meets with expectations or at least makes you laugh once or twice.  
> Back to the Blackwood we go!

 

 

“You know technically it’s a crime to strike me.” Princess Genrika of Thornhill was not having the best afternoon.

 

“You think anyone actually attacking you is going to be concerned with technicalities?” Shaw grunted as she brought her quarterstaff back around to strike out at Gen’s left knee. She nodded her approval when the girl redirected the strike with the staff in her own hands. “You asked me to train you, not coddle you.”

 

“I asked you to train me, not beat me. My bruises have bruises.” If the pattern of mottled bruising were on anyone else’s skin she might have found it impressive. As it was on hers not so much. Also ouch.

 

Shaw danced around, waiting for another opening. When Gen dropped her left shoulder in frustration she lunged at the opportunity, “Start paying attention and maybe you’ll have fewer bruises.”

 

Gen ducked under Shaw’s blow and even managed to land a glancing strike to her ribs. “I thought I asked for sword training.”

 

“And what are you going to do one day when a sword is not available to you?” Shaw leapt up and brought her staff down on to Gen’s with all of her body weight behind the blow. The girl was able to block but the force knocked her on to her back.

 

“Call for my sister to save me?” Gen groaned from her place in the dirt.

 

“As much as I love you and want to look after you, I’m not always around Gen,” Root called from her perch on the railing of the horse paddock. She had been a most enthusiastic spectator after bringing her girls a light afternoon snack.

 

“As Queen I can order you to remain by my side.”

 

Shaw moved to stand over the girl, one hand on her staff the other on her hip. “You really want Root hanging around all the time after what happened with little Lord Maddison?”

 

Gen frowned. Lord Maddison the younger was eighteen, with a body that rivaled the sculptures in Uncle Harry’s favorite garden, sandy blonde hair and charming hazel eyes. She had danced with him twice at the Remembrance Day Ball. He was also exceptionally light on his feet. Well, until he sneezed in the middle of the second dance.

 

Root had materialized out of nowhere and taken his left hand, which had accidentally wandered south of what was strictly respectable due to the sneeze, in a vice grip and forcibly escorted him off of the dance floor. Once Lord Maddison was separated from Gen’s person, her sister threatened to castrate him if his hands strayed from her waist again. In graphic detail. She may have even mentioned feeding the remains to Bear.

 

Needless to say Lord Maddison did not ask Gen for another dance.

 

“Fine,” The girl huffed, “I resend that order.”

 

Shaw shook her head as she held out a hand to help Gen to stand. “Just how long is that list of ‘When I’m Queen’ decrees you’re saving up?”

 

“Long enough,” Gen replied as Shaw hauled her to her feet. “Though one shorter now.”

 

“But Bear is still receiving his Knighthood I trust?” Root chuckled. It was an old joke between the two of them. Four-year-old Gen had been highly upset upon discovering her favorite playmate was without an official title at court.

 

“Of course, Ser Bear, the Brave, the first of his line,” Gen giggled. She moved over to pick up one of the flagons of water that were resting on the railing beside where Root sat. She sighed as she took a long drink.

 

“Sure, take a breather,” Shaw grumbled.

 

“We’re not all rabid beasts Ser Shaw,” Gen haughtily replied. “Some of us actually need water and air to survive.” She waved the water jug about to emphasize her point.

 

Shaw rolled her eyes, “Five minutes.” She began moving through a series of drills to keep her muscles warm. The day was sunny and bright, but there was still a lingering tendril of winter in the spring air.

 

Gen glanced at Root who was watching Shaw with glassy eyes. “Stop being disgusting,” She groaned when Root licked her lips. Honestly, she had been looking like that at Shaw for years and showed no signs of stopping. Gen was more than a little envious of her sister’s good fortune. Though she’d never begrudge her this happiness.

 

“You’ll understand someday,” Root muttered, it was clear by her tone that she was still distracted by Shaw’s movements.

 

“Not if you keep chasing all the cute ones away.”

 

Root turned her attention to her sulking sister. “Any man worthy of you will not be intimidated by the likes of me.”

 

Gen’s shoulders slumped. “So you’re saying no one is good enough for me?”

 

“My sister the genius,” Root grinned. At her unimpressed look she added, “You’re fifteen, Gen. You’ve plenty of time yet for that sort of thing.”

 

“Just because you didn’t meet Shaw until you were practically ancient.”

 

“Rude,” Root pouted. “What happened to my sweet, kind little sister?”

 

“You gave her over to your demon of a fiancé to torture.” She lifted the water to her lips again.

 

“I can hear you,” Shaw snapped. “And you asked for this training. But if you want to sit on your ass and do needlepoint, I am sure Lady Claypool can be convinced to house you for the remainder of your time away from the palace.”

 

Gen gaped at Root. “You see? Demon.”

 

“Shaw, no one deserves being forced to spend time in one of Lady Claypool’s sewing circles. It’s cruel and unusual punishment.” There was hell and then there was Lady Claypool’s sewing circles.

 

“Fine, she could go stay with Lady Claire.” The young noble was a newer face around court, her father having only introduced her to society that past summer, yet she and Gen had struck up a fast friendship.

 

“Do you know how long it takes to travel to her estate?” The holdings of House Mahoney were near the northern boundary of Thornhill, close to the border with Decima. Gen shook her head, “I’d have to turn right back around as soon as I arrived.”

 

“Then maybe you shouldn’t complain so much about where you are staying?”

 

“I wasn’t complaining about The Groves,” Gen countered, “Just the demon who’s taken up residence in it.”

 

Shaw glanced over at Root. “Were you this insufferable as a teen?”

 

She shrugged, “I was probably worse.” She pat her sister on the shoulder, “And I had access to alchemy labs.”

 

“So you were different from now, exactly how?” Gen smirked at her.

 

“I didn’t have my own personal demon to keep me warm at night for starters.” Root grinned, “Sameen is far better than any fantasy I cooked up alone in my bed back then let me tell you…”

 

“Please don’t,” Gen interrupted her, “There are some things I really do not need to know about my sister.”

 

“Is there anything left?” Shaw idly wondered, “You’ve walked in on us enough times.” She ambled over to stand beside them. Root hopped down from her perch and handed Shaw her own jug of water.

 

“Because the pair of you have no respect for proper decorum. There are bedchambers for such things.” Gen sputtered. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment from the memory, “And doors with locks!”

 

“Wow,” Root poked Gen in the side, “You’ve been spending far too much time with Uncle Harry.”

 

“He’d claim the reverse is true, I’m sure.” Uncle Harold’s lectures about the proper bearing and decorum of true ladies of the court, had seemed to increase in volume as of late. Probably because she had snuck out of the castle with Harper to visit the docks one too many times. Gen couldn’t help it though. The people down there were so much more interesting than the members of court.

 

She smiled as she watched Root wipe a bit of dirt from Shaw’s face with her thumb, earning a swat to her shoulder. Undeterred, Root reached out again. When Shaw sidestepped the attempt, Root nearly fell into the dirt herself. Gen chuckled. Present company excluded of course.

 

“Root, knock it off.”

 

“I’m simply trying to keep you tidy, Sameen.” She had moved on from cleaning Shaw’s face to swatting at her backside.

 

“One I didn’t fall on my ass.” She held up a finger. “And two even if I had, there isn’t that much dirt in the whole kingdom.”

 

“You know I like to be thorough.”

 

Shaw poked her in the chest. “I know you like to be a grab ass.”

 

Root shrugged her shoulders. “It’s a complement.”

 

“According to who?”

 

Gen couldn’t help but laugh at their antics. At the sound Shaw turned to glare at her. It was almost as if she had forgotten she was there. “Okay, break’s over. Let’s go again,” Shaw instructed stepping back from the fence and into her ready position. “Defense only this time.”

 

“Oh goodie,” Gen groaned. She did however move quickly to take her place across from Shaw.

 

Root smiled at them. She adored the fact that they got on so well. “You girls have fun. I’m going to go do a little work of my own in the shop.” She gestured over to the small stone building on the other side of the courtyard where she kept her alchemy supplies.

 

“Try not to blow yourself up before dinner,” Shaw directed. “I caught some of that trout you like in the river this morning. You and Gen are sharing the small one.”

 

“You spoil me,” Root grinned. She blew Shaw a kiss which caused an expectedly exaggerated eye roll. “Try not to maim my sister.”

 

“I won’t if she learns to block.” She lunged forward sending her staff’s end right towards Gen’s face. The girl yelped and ducked under the strike. “Does she need all her teeth to be queen?”

 

“Yes, I do,” Gen screeched before Root could reply.

 

“You heard Her Royal Majesty,” Root chuckled. “Play nice, Sweetie.”

 

A few hours later, Shaw slipped through the back door of Root’s workshop. She paused for a moment to take everything in. In the months since the building’s construction Root had done a fair bit of work filling it to the brim with all sorts of curiosities. Rack after rack of exotic herbs laid out to dry. Shelves of books of every size and color. A jar of pickled orbs, which Shaw was reasonably certain used to be something’s eyes. It was quite the collection.

 

She smiled as she noticed the bearskin rug from their adventure in the ruins near the Village of Turing. Shaw gave that a little stomp out of sheer spite. Damn pain in her ass demonic bears. Her knee still tended to ache a bit when it rains now.

 

In the middle of everything Root stood hunched over one of her tables. An eagle feather quill was clutched between her fingers. It whipped back and forth as she trailed it across the pages of an open ledger. Her other hand traced over the lines of text in an even larger volume resting beside the ledger. Shaw couldn’t help but tease her for being such a bookworm, “I don’t know why you want to marry me so badly when you have your precious books.”

 

“They don’t have your fingers or your tongue,” Root replied, not looking up from her work. She made another notation of some form on to the page. Her fingers holding the quill were stained black with ink. Shaw’s lips curved the slightest bit upwards. She kept telling Root that she should just dip her fingertips in the inkwell to start so all of her nails would match. “Though I do appreciate the miniscule note of jealousy I’m hearing.”

 

“Please,” Shaw snorted. “I’m not jealous of a bunch of moldy old tomes.”

 

“I beg your pardon,” Root scoffed. “Nothing here is moldy.” She set down her quill and finally looked up at her.

 

Shaw pointed to a dish on the worktop beside her. It was fuzzy with green and black plant life. “Uh huh.”

 

Root bit her lip. “That is not a book.” She sauntered over to Shaw.

 

“Whatever you say,” Shaw shook her head. “Come on, playtime’s over. Dinner’s ready.”

 

“Where’s Gen?”

 

“We’ll gather her up on the way. She’s soaking in one of the horse troughs,” Shaw replied. She had a malicious little grin on her face. “Praying for my death I’d wager.”

 

“She’d never,” Root scoffed. “She loves me too much to wish you away.”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes. “So what sort of trouble are we brewing this time?” She was constantly amazed with the things Root managed to come up with in here. There were several toxic plants spread out along the work table, so she figured whatever Root’s current project was, it was a wicked one.

 

“A little of this and that.” There were a couple of cauldrons bubbling over the fire. One of Root’s smaller pots was resting on a grate above some glowing coals in a table top basin Shaw had formed for her from some scrap iron. She’d been keeping busy this afternoon. “I’ve spent most of my time this afternoon making a salve for Gen’s aches and pains.” Root held up a small clay jar. “It wouldn’t kill you to go a little easier on her.”

 

“Might kill her someday though,” Shaw countered. She took the jar from Root’s hand and opened the lid.  She took a sniff, “Arnica?” She cocked an eyebrow. “And evening primrose?”

 

Root nodded with a smile, “And just a whisper of calendula. It will help with the muscle soreness.”

 

Shaw snapped the lid back on. “She’s getting stronger.” After the first day Gen could barely move without grimacing. They had trained before, in fact Gen was growing quite handy with a blade for a noble, but this visit was the first time that Shaw was able to dedicate entire days to the young princess’ training all in one go. The girl was feeling it everywhere. Shaw held up the jar, “But some of this and a light day tomorrow probably wouldn’t hurt.”

 

“Thank you.” Root leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.

 

“I’m not doing it for you,” Shaw scowled.  She handed the jar back to Root, who carefully set it down on the table just behind her. “It simply makes sense to give her a break at this point. I’ve still got her for two more weeks.” The princess was staying with them while some long delayed renovations to the family wing of the palace were taking place.

 

“Just remember Gen needn’t be capable of singlehandedly defeating an entire squad of Uncle Harry’s men by the end of those two weeks.” Root wholeheartedly agreed that Gen needed to be capable of defending herself, but Shaw was acting as if the girl would be running missions for the guild tomorrow.

 

Shaw snorted, “Like that’s hard?” 

 

“Sameen.”

 

“What? You know I don’t half ass anything.”

 

“Yes,” Root licked her lips as she backed Shaw up until she was nearly on top of one of the work tables. She slid one of her hands across Shaw’s body and rested it on the table beside her hip, blocking her ability to move away. Her other hand trailed along her side and then down until it rested on Shaw’s ass. “I have a great appreciation for it.”

 

“Ha, ha,” Shaw rolled her eyes though she made no move to dislodge Root’s wandering hand. She didn’t mind the attention so much when they didn’t have an audience. Despite what Gen might think, Shaw was not an exhibitionist.

 

“I’m completely serious, Sweetie.” She gave it a good squeeze. “I could compose sonnets to your ass.” A rub and another squeeze. “Entire epics even.”

 

“You have a sickness.”

 

Root’s hand took up a steady kneading motion. She leaned in closer to whisper in Shaw’s ear, “Lucky for me the cure is well in hand.”

 

Shaw chuckled. “I swear to god if you weren’t so hot…” She tried to pull away, dinner was waiting, but only managed to move about half a step before literally bumping into the table. She scowled and began to rub her elbow. “Son of a…”

 

The racks of vials on the table rattled. Root grasped Shaw’s wrist pulling her back against her body, “Careful, Sweetie. Some of those will explode if combined.” She reached around Shaw with her free hand to steady the equipment. “Wouldn’t want to start a fire would we?”

 

“Little late for that.”

 

“Oh, getting hot for me after all?”

 

“No,” Shaw drawled. She nodded to something over Root’s shoulder. “Is that table supposed to be burning?”

 

Root’s eyes widened. She spun around and indeed one of her workbenches was slowly being consumed by flames. The tonic she had been mixing had boiled over and caught fire. She scrambled over to one of the shelves and grabbed two vials of violet liquid and threw them onto the burning furniture. The contents of the vials turned into a foam of sorts and quickly smothered the flames.

 

Once the fire was out, she moved the now ruined pot of tonic off what was left of her table and into the barrel she used for waste. Root wrinkled her nose. She only enjoyed the smell of smoke when it was coming from Shaw’s skin after a day working the forge. This aroma wasn’t nearly as sexy. A few windows would need opening as well to vent the workshop.

 

Shaw, for her part, was doubled half over with laughter. “Don’t even try and tell me you meant to do that.”

 

Root rolled her eyes, “What can I say, Sameen? You make me want to burn it all down.”

 

Shaw snorted, “Just keep it to your furniture out here.” She ambled over to inspect the table. Even with Root’s quick action it was good for little more than kindling now. “I’ll drag this out of here and start making you a new one tomorrow.” She smirked, “Maybe we should fireproof that one?” She quirked her lips in thought. Perhaps she could mold something completely out of iron.

 

“A necessity around you and I.”

 

Shaw held up her hands. “That was all you.” What was it about watched pots and boiling?

 

“Because I was so captivated by you, Sameen.” Root countered. “Face it, we basically started that fire a long time ago.”

 

Shaw shook her head, “The only thing I need to face is the fact that I fell in with a madwoman.”

 

“Aint it fun?”

 

“Hey,” Gen shouted from outside. “I’m going to go ahead and eat if you two are being nasty in there.”

 

“We’re coming.”

 

“I don’t want to know about it!” Gen screeched.

 

Shaw rolled her eyes, “Why weren’t you an only child?”

 

“My father was a bit of a whore,” Root chuckled. “I imagine it’s where I get the grab assing from.”

 

“Save it for later,” Gen shouted, her voice closer now. The fact that they weren’t out of breath when they responded to her, giving her a bit of courage. “I’m hungry. And if I’m hungry Shaw’s starving.”

 

Shaw shrugged, “Kid’s not wrong.”

 

“We better feed the beast then,” Root sighed. She leaned down and pecked Shaw on the lips. “We’ll finish stoking that fire you started after our meal.”

 

And they did. Shaw suppressed a shudder later that evening as Root withdrew her fingers. She sat back on her heels, leagues of pale skin on display as she sucked them into her mouth. “Mmm,” She hummed.

 

“Give me a minute and I’ll take care of you,” Shaw panted. Root had a way of wringing every last bit of strength from her limbs. Shaw still didn’t go in much for the whole religious thing, but times like these she did feel what one would call blessed.

 

Root pulled her fingers from her mouth with a wet pop. “No need, Sweetie. Five rounds were more than enough.”

 

Only five? “We’re getting old.”

 

“No,” Root corrected. “There were extenuating circumstances. You spent most of the day beating up my little sister…”

 

“Training.”

 

“And I was up at the crack of dawn because on top of an afternoon of training, someone got up early to go fishing.”

 

“You weren’t complaining at dinner,” Shaw managed to work up the energy to roll on to her side. Root actually ate like a normal human being when river trout was involved. “And you could have gone back to sleep after I left.”

 

“I had things to do. Well, besides you,” Root chuckled as she stood up from the bed.

 

Shaw watched as she walked over to their wardrobe and selected a new tunic. The one she had been wearing earlier hadn’t survived the trip from the door to the bed. It was a common occurrence. “Your point?”

 

“What, Sweetie?” Root’s mind was clearly elsewhere already.

 

“A point? Did your little speech have one?”

 

“Oh,” Root shrugged the tunic over her head. “Simply that we had an active day.” She scooped her breeches up from the floor. She had worked them off fast enough to avoid any tearing. “We’re still in our prime. No need to use the “O” word.”

 

“I was kidding, but if you’re that worried about it, I’m sure you can take up bathing in the blood of virgins or something.” Shaw hooked the quilt they used during these odd weeks that separated the frigid winter from the temperate nights of spring with her toes and pulled it back on to the bed. When it was high enough she snagged it with one hand and brought it the rest of the way up until it covered her lower half.

 

Root frowned, whether it was at the implication that she was getting on in years or the fact that her favorite toy was being hidden, Shaw wasn’t sure. “Do you realize how many virgins that would require? Too impractical.”

 

“Yes, because the issue would be the practicality of the thing.”

 

Root shrugged as she made her way back to the bed. “You’re the one who brought it up.” She sat down to pull on her boots. “Worried about those few stray gray hairs?”

 

“Seeing as I never thought I’d live long enough to go gray? No,” Shaw replied. “But I’m not the one going gray, Princess.”

 

“Shut your lying mouth.”

 

“Don’t worry,” Shaw smirked. “I’m pretty sure I got them when you were going down on me earlier.” She was surprised Root didn’t have permanent bald spots.

 

Root rolled her eyes. “I’m going to go check on a couple of things in the shop.” Shaw vaguely remembered Root had left two cauldrons bubbling over the fire when they had left earlier that evening. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. Several of Root’s concoctions required lengthy, involved processes to create them. It was part of the reason no one could quite replicate the formulas she came up with.

 

Shaw reached out and grabbed her wrist. “If you’re not back in bed in three hours I’m coming for you.” She let go and rolled on to her side. “You need to sleep. I’ll drag you back to bed by the hair if I have to.”

 

“You should know better than to threaten me with a good time by now, Sameen.” Root leaned down and planted a kiss on her brow. Insufferable flirt.

 

“Three hours.”

 

She felt Root smile against her skin before she pulled away again. “I’ll be back before you can miss me.”

 

“You’re ridiculous,” Shaw grunted.

 

She must have drifted off not long after that. When Shaw’s eyes slid open sometime later the house was quiet. At first she wasn’t sure what had awoken her. She closed her eyes and snuggled back down under the blankets. The air held a bit of a chill and she was too comfortable to get back up no matter what she had threatened Root with earlier. After a minute laying in silence, she felt like she was being watched.

 

“Mmm, Root what have I told you about watching me sleep?” She rolled on to her side but didn’t open her eyes again. Her nose wrinkled as she took in a faint aroma of incense. Shaw scowled. She recognized the scent.

 

Problem was, it did not belong in her bedroom.


	2. Feelin the world go against us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's up with that smell? What's up with that face? What's up with Root? And why isn't She talking?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updating a little early and it's a big one.  
> Again huge thank you to everyone who's left a kudo or a comment or has tracked me down for a tweet. I love how much you all have embraced this crazy little universe.

 

 

Even prior to the regime change that instituted the edict that anyone who attempted to leave would be hunted down like one of their targets, not many members willingly chose to leave the guild. The majority of acolytes were brought in at a young age, trained for years to hunt, to kill, and most of all to obey the guild. The guild selected the targets, the guild assigned the assets, the guild kept its own counsel, owing no love to any king or country. Its morals were their morals. Catalysts were to be swift, cunning, and silent. Never leave a trace, never allow a target to escape, and never turn on one of your own. These tenets were established by the First Catalyst, Bas. He had become a patron saint of assassins if you will. Many of Shaw’s fellows worshiped the guy.

 

Frankly, it was a bit like a cult.

 

Shaw of course never went in for that aspect of life as a catalyst. The guild kept a roof over her head and food in her belly, that was all she needed in the beginning to inspire loyalty. She never visited the shrine in the guildhall dedicated to Bas. Never knelt at one of his alters and lit a candle for a successful mission. She well remembered the cloyingly sweet smell of the incense several catalysts used in their prayers however.

 

That smell slithered through the air of her bedroom, tainting the space. Shaw slowly slid her hand towards her pillow. “It’s even creepier when you do it standing up like that,” She said as if she truly believed she was speaking to her partner. Her fingers curled around the hilt of the dagger she kept concealed in the bedding. Weapon in hand, she stilled, listening intently to determine the position of the room’s other occupant.

 

The loose floorboard five paces from her side of the bed creaked. Root would know to avoid it. It was the last bit of confirmation she needed. Gotcha, asshole.

 

Shaw sat up with a jolt and threw the dagger. There was a grunt and a thud. She didn’t take the time to look to confirm the kill, already rolling in the opposite direction, over Root’s side of the bed. There was a whistle as an arrow embedded itself in the mattress just where her head had been a moment before. Her bare feet met the floor with a smack. She grabbed the mattress and flipped it onto its side in time to catch another arrow. The goose down stuffing began to spill out like snow.

 

Shaw grunted, making sure to keep the mattress in front of her as she groped around on the floor for another weapon. It took her a moment to find one of Root’s knives tucked between the now empty slats on her side of the bed. Another arrow struck the mattress, this time puncturing the entire thing. The arrowhead appeared just to the side of Shaw’s face. She swore under her breath. The bed had been far too comfortable to be sacrificed this way.

 

She tightened her grip on the blade and peered around the side of the mattress. The room was dim but there was enough light coming in from the hallway for her to see her second attacker. A Catalyst, bow drawn, was making his way slowly across the room. Shaw pushed the mattress to the side a bit, making sure the bedpost would now support its weight. At the movement, the Catalyst released another arrow.

 

Good.

 

She slowly slid on to her stomach. Then Shaw crawled underneath the bed frame. She just barely fit. Even then, it wasn’t a perfect cover, as there were large gaps between the slats, but she was counting on the fact that her attacker would assume she was still crouched behind the mattress.

 

Shaw shimmied across the floor on her belly. When she was almost to the other side of the bed she stopped and waited. She heard the Catalyst drawing closer. As long as he didn’t look down she should be able to pull this off.

 

When his leg was within arm’s reach, Shaw brought the knife in her hand around and into the back of his calf. She pulled down as hard as she could with one arm. It was good enough. He crashed to one knee. Shaw didn’t waste any time, withdrawing the knife to flip her grip and go in for another strike.

 

She sunk the knife in the narrow gap between his chest plate and his hip. Shaw made sure to twist the knife once it was in. Her target cried out. She quickly withdrew her blade as the assassin fell the rest of the way to the floor. He clutched the wound to try and staunch the flow of blood. But Shaw knew it wouldn’t do much good, she had aimed for maximum damage. He’d bleed out before long.

 

Which meant she had to hurry. Shaw slid the rest of the way out from under the bed. She kicked the bow away from his hand and relieved him of his sword. Then she knelt at his side. Shaw reached out and pulled the mask from his face. She recognized him from her time in the guild. They’d never worked together but he had a reputation as one of Hersh’s favorites. Shaw wondered if he was here, did that mean that his master wasn’t far behind? “How many?”

 

He shook his head. “You’re better than I remembered.” He coughed, spitting out blood. “Five squads.”

 

Shaw stood up and quickly pulled on a tunic and the pants Root had pulled off of her and thrown to the floor earlier. “Objective?”

 

“Kill you.” He coughed again. “Capture the girl.” He made a gurgling noise.

 

“What about my partner?” He didn’t reply. Shaw poked him with her foot but he was clearly gone. The first man in the room was dead as well, the dagger she had thrown hitting him in the gap between his throat and breastplate. She turned and hurried towards the bedroom door. She couldn’t waste any time here.

 

Her sword lay waiting on its stand next to the door. Its familiar weight in her hand steadied her. She quickly slipped the belt for her scabbard over her shoulder and tightened it across her chest. She opened a small compartment underneath the sword rack and removed three vials. She tucked them into loops specifically sewn into the belt. Suitably armed, Shaw peered around the doorway. The hallway was empty but she could hear the echoes of a struggle from the other side of the house.

 

Knowing that Root could handle herself, wherever she may be, Shaw made a quick tactical decision. She sprinted down the hallway towards Gen’s room.

 

“There!” Someone shouted when she passed the stairs. Shaw turned her head to see three catalysts running up them towards her. She pulled one of the vials from its slot and tossed it at the first man. The glass shattered as it impacted his chest. There was a rumble of thunder and then his body was consumed with bright white streaks of lighting. He fell backwards colliding with the other two men, who began to twitch as the charge passed from his body into theirs. Those three wouldn’t be an issue.

 

“Losers,” Shaw grumbled as she resumed her rush to Gen’s room.

 

Her steps slowed as she noticed a pair of boots sticking out from the open door. “Good girl,” She whispered as she crept closer. Shaw stopped completely as she reached the doorway. She molded herself to the wall and looked down. Her eyes trailed along the floor taking in the pair of worn boots and stocky legs. The handle of a very familiar knife was sticking out of the fallen man’s back.

 

She could hear a struggle from within the room. Fair guess was that they had sent two men down either side of the hallway. Thankfully, Gen had been able to subdue one already. Shaw peered around the doorframe.

 

Their backs were to the door. A Catalyst had his thick arms wrapped around Gen’s waist. He was partially leaning back to lift her into the air. Gen was kicking her legs and twisting her body against his hold. It definitely looked like he was trying to capture not kill her. Shaw clenched her fist. At least what little intel she had appeared to be good.

 

She rushed forward. A few steps away from the pair she shouted. “Hey!” The distraction worked. The Catalyst turned to look at her. Gen used his lack of focus to bring one leg back far enough to hit him in his groin. Shocked by the sudden blow, he loosened his grip allowing Gen to slip from his arms and on to the floor. The Catalyst, in too much pain to worry about his escaping captive, fell forward a bit grabbing his injured pride. Shaw quickened her pace and leapt into the air. The heel of her left foot slammed into his face. She could feel his nose crunch and fold beneath the force of the kick.

 

He crashed on to his back. Shaw landed in a crouch beside him. Before he could recover she jammed her sword through his chest. His body jerked for a moment when she withdrew her blade but he died nearly instantly.

 

Shaw reached out and pulled the mask from his face. She didn’t recognize this one. Her eyes narrowed when she noticed a black X on his forehead. When she thought about it, the man in her room had one on his face as well. One man with such a mark was odd, two was a sign of a headache waiting to happen. She made a mental note to mention it to Root when she found her.

 

She quickly searched the body and relieved the Catalyst of his weapons. She stood up and arranged them on the bed. One spare sword. A throwing knife. Two daggers.  Gen watched her with wide eyes. “Did they hurt you?”

 

She shook her head. “I was up reading. I heard them on the stairs. They weren’t even whispering.” Gen swallowed. “So I hid behind the door. When he opened it and came inside I stabbed him in the back.” She looked at her hand. Shaw could see that there was blood on it. “I killed him, Shaw.”

 

“You saved yourself.”

 

Gen didn’t seem to hear her. “I murdered him.”

 

Shaw had seen this sort of reaction before. Not so much among members of the guild, they tended to weed the remorseful ones out fairly quickly, but she’d been around enough battlefields to know the signs. Gen was going into a sort of shock.

 

She was pale. Shaking, though Shaw could tell that she was trying to suppress it. Gen stared down at the two bodies now littering the floor of her bedroom. “Hey,” Shaw barked. Gen’s head snapped up.

 

“Shaw, I…” She whimpered. Then she suddenly crumpled against Shaw. Gen’s arms wrapped around her waist like she was the only thing keeping her tethered to the ground. Shaw felt her tunic growing wet from tears.

 

“You’re okay kid,” She sighed. “You’re okay.” She awkwardly pat her on the head.

 

After a couple of minutes, that they probably couldn’t spare, though Shaw wasn’t going to let go until the kid did, Gen pulled herself together enough to sniffle out, “Root?”

 

“She’s fine,” Shaw assumed she was anyway. “We need to get you out of here.” There was no way she was going to let the guild get their hands on Gen. She let the girl go and moved back towards the bedroom door. She rolled the guy Gen had killed out of the way so she could pull the door closed.

 

“But…”

 

“Nope.” Shaw shook her head. “Assassins attacking the house means I’m in charge, which means you’re going to be quiet and do as I say without arguing for once.” She locked the door and then moved to push the mahogany dressing table in front of it. It wouldn’t hold back too vigorous of an assault, but it would buy them some time.

 

“Gods! Did one of them bite you?”

 

“What?”

 

“Your shoulder.” Gen pointed to where the neck of Shaw’s tunic had slipped, exposing her skin from her neck to her left shoulder. Shaw’s eyes widened as she took in the sight of a bloody bite mark imprinted on her flesh.

 

Oh. Shaw rolled her eyes. Damn it, Root!

 

“They, uh, fight dirty,” She mumbled. There was no way she was explaining to the already panicked teen that her sister was a biter. Add that it was the most innocent of her proclivities and... No. She shook her head.  Shaw didn’t overreact about things like other people tended to, but even she knew that was far too much for a body to process in one night.

 

“What are we going to do?”

 

“Get out of the house,” Shaw quickly replied, glad for the change in topic. “Find Root. Get the hell away from the guys trying to catch us.”

 

Gen moved over to the side of the bed and pulled on a fur robe that had been laying across the foot. She belted it around her waist. After a moment she tucked one of the Catalyst’s daggers into the belt. Shaw might have felt something akin to pride for her resiliency.

 

She was about to say as much when the door handle rattled. “Great, more company.” Frankly, it had taken them longer than she had expected to send more men up here. The door shook in its frame as a body or bodies flung against it. The sturdy, iron hinges and the dressing table held it in place for the moment. Shaw nodded to Gen. “Get on the bed. Just in case.”

 

“Just in case of what?” The girl asked as she scrambled to follow Shaw’s directive. The door rattled. There was a sound of wood splintering but the door once again held.

 

Shaw pulled one of the remaining two vials out for Gen to see. “I always complain to Root that the cracks between doors and floors around here let in too many drafts.” She crawled under the dressing table.

 

“I think you’re going to owe her apology.”

 

“Not a chance, kid.” Shaw grinned as she rolled the vial. As expected, it made it under the door and into the hallway. Shaw threw her body backwards as the sound of breaking glass and then thunder echoed through the door. Then there were screams as Root’s solution turned into lightning, downing the men trying to break in.

 

“Please tell me you have more of those.”

 

“Only one left. Surprisingly, Root doesn’t keep that many in our bedroom.” The ingredients were sort of hard to come by. They also tended to explode if Root didn’t handle them just right. Shaw wasn’t interested in exploding in her sleep.

 

“So do we go out that way now?”

 

Shaw shook her head. “No, I don’t know how many men might be moving around downstairs.” If she was by herself she’d just carve her way through anyone dumb enough to block her path, but Gen would never make it that way. She picked up the Catalyst’s throwing knife and twirled it between her fingers, the movement helped her to focus.

 

“Then how?”

 

“The window,” Shaw pointed. The roof extended out from this point over the first floor of the house. They could travel across and lower themselves to the ground somewhere out of the way. Then they could try and figure out where Root was. Hopefully, all without being seen. “Get some boots on.”

 

“What about you?” Shaw glanced down at her bare feet and shrugged. They were doing well to make it out of the house at all. Gen was all gangly limbed like her sister, including overly large feet. So borrowing a pair of hers was out. Shaw would worry about catching a cold later. She heard shouts from down the hallway. Much later.

 

Shaw went to the window and quickly opened it. She turned to look back at Gen as the girl finished lacing up her left boot. “All set?” Gen nodded. “I’ll go out first.” She waved towards the window. “I want you right behind me. I tell you to stop, you stop. I tell you to run, you run. You got me?”

 

Gen swallowed but then nodded.

 

Shaw pulled herself up and through the window. Gen’s room faced the front of the house and the courtyard below. The only issue was that it was on the opposite end of the house from where Shaw wanted to go. They couldn’t afford to remain in view of the courtyard for too long. They’d have to take the long way around. After scanning the area below, and deeming it clear for the moment, Shaw turned and extended her left hand to assist Gen through the window. 

 

She could hear banging start up again from the other side of the room. Apparently, reinforcements for the men she had shocked had arrived already. After a moment, there were added shouts. Cries of warning? Threats? Shaw tensed her jaw. “Wait against the wall for a moment.” She instructed Gen. The girl quickly complied, molding her frame against the side of the house.

 

Shaw felt along the window frame. The counter weight that held the sill aloft had a thin rope holding it up. She grabbed the window with one hand. With the other she pulled the knife she had taken off of the Catalyst out and sawed at the rope until it was barely holding together. Satisfied with her work, she pulled the third and final vial from the strap of her scabbard. She carefully wedged the vial into the track. Then Shaw eased the window down.

 

It was a gamble using the last of the vials this way. But if she was betting correctly, the catalysts breaking into the room would properly guess they went out the window and in their haste to open it to go after them, they’d either knock the vial onto the floor or the rope would snap, dropping the window itself on to it with force. Either way breaking the vial and getting the shock of their lives. She smirked at the thought and turned to Gen, “We’ll go around back and then find a way down.”

 

They were almost around the side of the house when the southern end of the barn exploded in a mass of green flames. The fire immediately spread in either direction for about fifty paces. One of Root’s firewalls. “Well, your sister is having fun at least,” Shaw replied with a roll of her eyes. Damn showoff. Root better not have killed the horses with that little stunt.

 

They pressed on, turning the corner of the building and disappearing, from view from the front of the house. They were halfway down the building when Shaw stopped them again. “This looks good.” There was a hedge row that blocked this portion of the ground from view. They could drop down here with little chance of being seen from the courtyard.

 

“For what?” Even when running from danger, Gen seemed to be made of questions.

 

“To jump.”

 

Gen turned to her with wide eyes. “Off the roof?”

 

Shaw glared at her like that should have been obvious. “It’s only one floor. No big deal.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Think of it as another training exercise.” Shaw glanced around one more time. Everything looked clear but they couldn’t afford to hang around long. The moon wasn’t exactly bright, merely a sliver in the night sky. But there was enough light that they would be easy targets up here for a decent archer on the ground. “It’ll be more of a controlled fall. I’ll go first. Show you how it’s done.” Gen still looked wary but she nodded.

 

Shaw slid on to her belly and scooted to the edge of the roof. She gripped the edges and then allowed herself to slide the rest of the way off. Her arms took her weight until she was dangling above the ground. Then it was only a matter of bracing herself and letting go.

 

She landed with little trouble and looked up at Gen. “See? Easy.” The girl, being taller, wouldn’t even have as far to drop as Shaw.

 

“Yeah easy,” The girl muttered from above. 

 

“I’ll be right here to catch you.” Shaw stood with her arms outstretched. “Just take it nice and slow.”

 

“Okay.” Shaw watched as Gen began to scoot closer to the edge of the roof.

 

Suddenly, there was a sound like a branch snapping nearby. Shaw turned her head. “Gen, wait a second,” She hissed. She stepped back a few paces to scan the area.

 

But it was too late. Gen was already halfway over the side. Shaw looked around for any signs they were about to have company but couldn’t see anyone.  She looked back up just in time to see Gen’s right hand slip and Gen fall to the ground in a heap. When she tried to stand she cried out, “Ah!”

 

“What?”

 

“Twisted my ankle when I landed,” Gen groaned. “No big deal. Only one floor my royal ass…” She fell back against the ground. “Shit this hurts.”

 

“Your Uncle’s head would explode if he heard you talking that way.” Shaw walked over and knelt beside the girl to examine her leg. Her right boot was already starting to bulge slightly. Oh crap.

 

Gen gingerly sat back up. “Yeah well I wonder what sort of language would fall out of his mouth if he jumped off of a rooftop.”

 

“Probably wouldn’t have the balls to jump,” Shaw commented as she helped the girl to stand.

 

“He’s a war hero,” Gen defended. Kid was loyal, Shaw would give her that.

 

“He hasn’t seen a battlefield in a long time.” She slung Gen’s arm over her shoulders. Too bad the girl had gotten so tall. A few years ago Shaw could have simply given her a piggy back ride. Nowadays she was far too gangly. “Remind me to add tumbling lessons to your training.”

 

“I fell just fine; it was the landing that got me.”

 

It was Shaw’s turn to groan, “That one was worthy of your sister.” Gen smirked, to her that was high praise indeed coming from Shaw. “Come on Root Jr., we still have to find the original.”

 

“So where do we go now? The barn?”

 

Shaw shook her head. “Your sister and I came up with a plan a long time ago should we ever have a problem like this. There’s a clearing not far from here with an old stable. Apparently they used it before they built the manor. Root’s mother’s family kept it up for, well honestly I don’t know why…” She trailed off. The point was they had a plan. Granted, that plan hinged on the fact that the pair of them would each neutralize as many attackers as possible prior to meeting up, but Shaw would bet Root would be waiting for them somewhere on the way to the clearing. 

 

“How far is not far?”

 

“Closer than the capitol but farther than the barn,” Shaw replied. “It’s not going to feel good on that ankle but given our other option is staying here…”

 

They heard another rumble of thunder and more shouting. “Oh I am fine with not staying here,” Gen pipped up, “Totally fine.” She let out a tiny groan when she shifted her injured leg. “Okay, maybe not totally fine.”

 

The pair of them limped away, mindful to keep in the shadows as much as possible. The trip around the house took twice as long as it normally would. Gen really was in a bad way. Shaw wasn’t too concerned just yet. She was fairly sure Root’s little stunt with the flaming barn had drawn most of the attacking force in her direction.

 

It wouldn’t do to take too many chances. Most didn’t mean all. They had been lucky so far. But they were bound to run into more trouble sooner or later. And Gen couldn’t run when they did. Shaw tensed her fist around the hilt of her sword. She wasn’t going to let them lay a finger on the girl. It was bad enough she’d already gotten hurt on her watch.

 

She decided to test their luck however as Gen made more and more pained noises the further they went. There was slow and then there was dangerously slow. Shaw crouched down when they passed behind the smokehouse. “Hold up for a second.”

 

“Gladly,” Gen groaned falling against the side of the small building. The near constant spikes of pain from her ankle were taking a lot out of her. She was paler than normal. And she was sweaty, despite the cold air.

 

“Sit down on the wood pile.” Shaw reached under the robe for the hem of Gen’s nightdress. She tore off a large strip of cloth from the bottom.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“We’ve got to do something about that ankle or we won’t make it very far on the way out of here.” Along with the neatly split logs there were some smaller branches Shaw sometimes used to add flavors to the smoke. She grabbed two pieces of similar length and width, then gently strapped them around Gen’s lower leg, over the boot, using the cloth. It wasn’t the best splint Shaw had ever used but it would help.

 

“Do you think Root is alright?” Gen whispered.

 

“Your sister is pretty much the smartest person I know. There is no way these idiots have laid a finger on her.” The catalysts knew what they were doing sure, but this was Root’s home turf. No one knew this area better than her, not even Shaw. Now that the catalysts had lost the initial moment of surprise, she had all the advantage.

 

“You’re not just saying that?”

 

Shaw snorted, “When have you ever known me to lie to spare your feelings?”

 

Gen tilted her head to the side just like Root would when asked such a thing. “You’re right. You can be a little too blunt at times.”

 

“Honest.”

 

“Blunt.”

 

“You’re picking up too many of Root’s bad habits,” Shaw grunted as she stood up again. “Though I guess there are worse people for you to take after.”

 

“If it makes you feel any better, I want to be like you too.”

 

Shaw shook her head, though her mouth did curl up in the tiniest grin. “You even act like a sap at inappropriate times like her too.” She glanced around. “We’ll have to go back out into the open for a few minutes, the path we need to take is between here and Root’s shop.”

 

“I wouldn’t go that way,” A voice called from above.

 

Shaw looked up with a scowl. “How long have you been up there?” Root was squatting on the roof of the smokehouse like an overgrown cat.

 

“Long enough,” Root replied with a grin. She quickly scrambled down to join them. “I’m touched you have so much faith in me, Sameen.”

 

“You’re too annoying to die,” She grumbled in reply. “But we should probably get moving. No sense in testing your odds.”

 

Root didn’t seem to be too concerned. “Don’t worry. We have a bit of a window. I set up a little distraction.”

 

“Yeah,” Gen nodded. “We saw the barn.”

 

“Oh not just that silly,” Root chuckled. “I lashed the scarecrow from the garden up on Rufus’ back and sent him into the wood.” Rufus was their little used cart and plow horse. “Some of them followed.”

 

Shaw frowned. “What about Raz and Harley?”

 

“Already waiting at our secret spot.” Root smiled, “I got bored.” Of course she did, Shaw wanted to groan. This was all one big spot of playtime for Root.

 

“No, you, bored?” Gen smiled back echoing Shaw’s thoughts. Seeing Root alive and well had lifted her spirits considerably.

 

“Though, now that I’ve found you, I propose we go get the horses and be on our way.” Once Gen was safe she and Shaw could return and properly clean house.

 

“Sure,” Shaw rested her hands on her hips. “But if we can’t go the way I suggested, how are we getting there?”

 

“If you want to plow through the men circling my shop…” Root began. Shaw glared at her and then flicked her eyes over to Gen. The message was clear; Shaw would actually have loved to kick a little ass but they had other priorities right now. It was time to reassure the kid that they were getting out of this.

 

Root cleared her throat. “We were fortunate one of the idiots stumbled outside of my shop and alerted me. Also that I was in there at all and thus able to gather some supplies.” Root held her coat open to reveal several knives and a neat row of vials strapped along her belt. A few spaces here and there were empty already, one had held the firewall obviously, but Shaw wondered what other tricks she had unleashed on their unlucky visitors.

 

“I blocked the doors and went out through the skylight. Can’t let just anyone rifle through my things.” Shaw definitely agreed. The guild did not need access to some of Root’s more creative alchemical experiments.

 

Root went on explaining her version of events, “Then I led some of them over to the barn. That was fun.” Her eyes glazed over a bit as she thought about it. After a moment she came back to herself, “But they stationed several men around the shop to prevent my return.” Root let her coat fall around her again. “Nothing we couldn’t handle but it’s probably better if we avoid crossing into their view.”

 

“Caution is good,” Shaw nodded. “Hersh is running these guys. He’s not as stupid as they are.”

 

Root bit her lip as she took that bit of information in. “I didn’t realize the guild still held such a grudge for you, Sameen.”

 

Seriously? Shaw rolled her eyes. Why did she assume that it was her fault? Not like the guild hadn’t had a bounty on Root’s head for ages. “Actually, according to the guy who tried to sneak into our bedroom…”

 

“Of all the nerve,” Root growled, cutting her off, suddenly incensed. “You weren’t even dressed. I’m the only one who gets to enjoy that view.”

 

“Hey, priorities,” Shaw snapped. When Root focused back on her she continued, “According to the idiot I stabbed,” Root smiled wickedly at that news, “Gen’s the target.”

 

The smile slid from her face. “We can’t let them have her.”

 

“Obviously,” Shaw scoffed. “What do you think I’ve been doing this entire time while you were having your fun in the barn?”

 

“Jealous I wasn’t playing with you, Sweetie?”

 

“Who was livid about the fact that the guy trying to kill me in our bed might have seen my breasts just now?”

 

“Those breasts are affianced,” Root countered, “We have a binding contract. Don’t even get me started on that ass.”

 

“Wasn’t planning to,” Shaw drawled. “We don’t have all night.”

 

Root sighed, “More’s the pity.”

 

Gen glanced back and forth between them. “Are you two seriously flirting while people are trying to kill us?”

 

“Flirting while in mortal peril is the basis of our entire relationship.” Root cocked her head to the side, “Well, that and my ardent devotion to Sameen’s ass.”

 

At the same time, Shaw pinched the bridge of her nose. Kid had a point but still. “Your sister is a madwoman. You know this. Don’t act surprised.”

 

“Is now really the time to scold the child, Shaw?” Root playfully nudged her with her hip.

 

It was Gen, however, that replied. “I’m not a child, Samantha.” Definitely not after what she had had to do tonight.

 

Root scowled at the use of her given name, “There’s no need to be rude.”

 

“There’s no need to patronize me either.”

 

“How about the both of you shut up?” Shaw interceded. “Root, point us in the right direction. Gen, ignore the madwoman and think about food.” The girl blinked at her. “What?” Shaw shrugged, “It works for me when she gets annoying.”

 

“Really, Sameen?” Root snorted. Gen let out a chuckle of her own. Root moved to help her to stand. “We probably should get going. I’ll show grumpy over there, the right way,” She told the girl as if it were her idea.

 

“Let’s do this,” Gen agreed, their argument seemingly already forgotten. She attempted to stand up on her own and fell back on to Root. “Did we mention my ankle is broken?”

 

“I noticed,” Root drawled. “I leave you alone with Shaw for a couple hours and she breaks you.”

 

“Wasn’t really her fault,” Gen shrugged.

 

“Well, we can’t have you running around like this.”

 

“Don’t think I’ll be running much at all,” Gen allowed. She knew she had been slowing Shaw down. Though she never complained about having to support Gen’s weight.

 

“I know,” Root sighed. “So try not to be too angry with me for this later.”

 

“Angry about what?” Gen turned her head to look back at her sister only to put her nose right over an open vial of sleeping solution. After a beat, her eyes rolled back into her head and she slumped against Root.

 

Shaw blinked at her. “Did you just?”

 

“What?” Root shrugged. She settled Gen back against the woodpile. “She wouldn’t be fast enough on that ankle. We can’t leave her alone long enough to bring the horses to her, and she would be too stubborn to let you carry her to them.”

 

“Actually, I approve.”

 

That brought Root up short. Shaw certainly hadn’t approved the one-time Root had knocked her out that way. “You do?”

 

“Yeah, that move is hilarious when it isn’t being used on me.” Shaw scooped Gen into her arms with a chuckle. She settled the girl over one shoulder so that her sword arm was still free. “Did you see the way her eyes rolled back into her head?”

 

Root beamed at her, “I love you.”

 

“Must you?” Shaw groaned. Flirting at awkward times was one thing. Getting sappy for no reason was quite another. And quite uncalled for as far as Shaw was concerned. First Gen, now Root. Like Shaw had told the girl, the pair were far too alike for her taste in that regard.

 

“Let me think about it,” Root tapped her chin. “Absolutely.” She pulled her daggers and gave them a twirl. “You ready?”

 

“Lead the way.”

 

They had barely entered the surrounding wood when something hit Shaw in the back of her right shoulder. She stumbled, almost dropping Gen. “Sameen,” Root shouted at the same time spinning around and throwing a knife into the trees. Shaw heard a shout and then a thud.

 

“Archers,” Shaw growled. She dodged another shot. “Probably Shadows.” Meaning they wouldn’t close in on them to engage hand to hand if they could get to some cover. She’d bet her favorite knife that Hersh had them ring the property before he sent the catalysts in. Still there would only be so many to go around. If they found a gap in their perimeter they’d make it out easy.

 

“We need to get invisible,” Root replied. She fumbled for something on her belt. She stopped for a split second and turned to the side as an arrow with yellow fletching sailed past.

 

“Haven’t quite learned that trick yet,” Shaw drawled, as she ducked behind a tree.

 

“Good thing I brought some tricks of my own then.” Root threw a pair of vials on to the ground. They shattered sending up a rapidly expanding plume of white smoke.

 

“The rest of them will be drawn to all the smoke.”

 

“We’ll be long gone before they can find us in it,” Root assured her. “Let’s go.”

 

They walked for another ten minutes. Root would periodically check behind them for pursuers. Despite her earlier bravado, she was clearly nervous, which made Shaw the closest she came to uneasy.

 

The stables were deserted except for a waiting Razgovor and Harley in the paddock beside them, when they arrived. Root signaled for Shaw to wait while she cleared the building. When she whistled a moment later, Shaw carried Gen inside and laid her down against some feed sacks. Daniel must have been stashing extra stock in here between smuggling runs again. “We should give it a few minutes, make sure we weren’t followed.”

 

“True, we do need to take care of something before we can ride,” Root told her. Shaw still had an arrow sticking out of her back. “Let’s get your shirt off.”

 

“We don’t have that much time…”

 

“For once that isn’t a come-on,” Root replied. “I’m not going to risk you losing your sword arm, or bleeding out on the ride through the wood.”

 

“Don’t be so dramatic.”

 

“This is happening one way or another, Shaw. So really you’re the one who’s wasting time by arguing with me about it.”

 

“Whatever,” Shaw rolled her eyes. “You’ll have to cut the fabric away so I can get this off.”

 

“It’s so nice when you actually see reason.” Root circled Shaw so she was standing just behind her. “I’m going to break the end off first. Less to work around.” After Shaw nodded her assent, she carefully snapped about half the length, including the fletching, from the arrow’s shaft. She stroked Shaw’s side for a moment once she was done, knowing the move jarred her wound even if the woman didn’t so much as whimper.

 

“Get on with it then,” Shaw grumbled. Root took the back of Shaw’s tunic in one hand and began to cut a long slit in the fabric under what was left of the arrow with one of her daggers. Shaw felt a little thrill at the sensation of the blade tracing over her skin. She rolled her eyes at herself, this was so not the time.

 

“All set,” Root whispered in her ear. Her tone clearly implied she knew the effect she had on Shaw’s libido. Shaw only nodded in reply. The pair of them worked together to pull the tunic over her head. Once it was off, Root folded it in half and slung it over her shoulder. “How do you want to do this?”

 

“Just push it all the way in,” Shaw grumbled. She knew the way the guild preferred to craft its arrows. The head would be barbed. If Root tried to pull it out back the way it came, she’d wreck Shaw’s shoulder. The way out was forward. The shaft wiggled slightly as Root altered her grip. Shaw grimaced. She had a high tolerance for pain, even enjoyed it under certain circumstances, but this wasn’t exactly one of those instances. “Do it in one smooth thrust.”

 

Root’s breath was warm against the back of her neck. “Normally, I love when you say that sort of thing in that tone.”

 

“Root, we’re on a clock here.”

 

“Patience is a virtue, Sameen.”

 

“We don’t have time for patience or any other virtues right no-ow,” Shaw whooshed out a breath as Root suddenly shoved the arrow through her shoulder. She looked down to see the bloody arrowhead and part of the shaft sticking out just below her collarbone.

 

“There all done.” Root tapped her on the butt.

 

“Thanks,” Shaw drawled as she reached up and yanked the arrow the rest of the way from her body. She threw it to the dirt with a scowl. She squeezed her fist a few times. She’d be able to use her sword but she doubted she’d be able to raise her arm very high at the moment.

 

Root dropped a roll of bandages into her hand. Shaw glanced up at her with a raised eyebrow. She really had been able to get her hands on supplies before the idiot invasion came in full. Shaw unwound a length of the cloth and tore it with her teeth. She shuffled back over to Gen and used it to add support to her splint.

 

“That was for your shoulder,” Root chided her.

 

“Kid will need it more than me,” Shaw replied still working on tying off the knot. It was doubly good Root had drugged Gen. The ride was not going to be kind on the girl. Especially as they couldn’t afford to take it easy or avoid any rough stretches of trail.

 

Root took the roll of bandages back from her and tore off a long strip. Then she began wrapping Shaw’s shoulder. “We can stop and properly patch you up once we get clear.”

 

Shaw glanced back at her, “You keep a full med kit in that coat I don’t know about?” Bandages were one thing but Root could only be carrying so much stuff.

 

“I figured we’d improvise.” Root licked her lips, “That’s always fun.” She tied the ends of the bandage together at the top of Shaw’s shoulder. It would at least keep some pressure on her wounds. She handed the rest of the roll back to Shaw so that she could add some padding to Gen’s splint.

 

“I’ll be fine.” She stood up again. “We clear to move?”

 

“Not that I don’t enjoy the view, but are you going to put your shirt back on?” She held Shaw’s tunic out to her.

 

Shaw blinked for a moment. Literally caught with her tits out. “Yeah,” She shook her head and took the tunic from Root’s hand. “My head’s all over the place tonight.” Shaw managed to get the garment back on, on her own. By the time she was finished, Root had moved to the stable doors to peer back out at the trees around them.

 

“What do you think?”

 

“Not long now.” Root took a deep breath, “Sameen…”

 

Shaw came to stand in the shadows beside her. “What? You see something?”

 

“Just,” She raked her teeth across her bottom lip. “We get Gen out of here no matter what.” She didn’t turn to look at her.

 

“Pretty sure that’s the plan, yeah.”

 

“No matter what, Sameen. Promise me.” There was something off about the way she said it.

 

“Hey,” Shaw waited until Root was looking at her to speak again. “We will get your sister home safe. They won’t touch her.”

 

She released a heavy sigh, “Thank you.”

 

“You’re being weird. You know something you’re not telling me?” Shaw cleared her throat, “More than usual I mean.”

 

“I don’t know anything about what happens next.” Root shook her head, “That’s what’s bothering me. She’s being quiet.”

 

Oh, well then. Shaw smirked, “Welcome to being normal.”

 

“I don’t like it.”

 

Shaw chuckled, “You ready to move?” She was walking back over to Gen before Root could even answer.

 

“Looks like,” Root replied. Her voice still sounded off to Shaw. No matter, any nerves would be fixed as soon as they got Gen the hell out of here.

 

Shaw stepped to the door and let out a loud whistle. Razgovor raised his head from where he had been grazing and trotted towards them. They stepped out of the stables to meet him. Shaw gestured for Root to take Gen from her. “Hold her for a minute. I’ll climb on and then you boost her up to me.”

 

“Your arm,” Root began, “Can you hold on to her and direct Razgovor?”

 

“You have more throwing knives on you?” Root nodded with a confused frown. “If we run into trouble it’s better if you have both hands free. Besides Raz was trained to carry a full grown man riding in full plate. He can handle the extra weight better than Harley.” Root’s horse had been bred for speed not strength.

 

“Okay,” Root nodded. Shaw easily climbed into the saddle. She turned Razgovor so that her good arm was on the same side as Root and the pair of them manhandled Gen on to the saddle in front of her.

 

Razgovor shifted under their weight. Seemed like he had an unexpected case of the nerves tonight too. Shaw shook her head. Must have been the damn fire at the barn that spooked him. He shifted a bit in the dirt. “Shh big man,” Shaw soothed him.

 

“Try to settle him down,” Root instructed her. “I’ll go get Harley.” She turned and began walking towards her horse who was still grazing a few paces away.

 

She’d only taken a handful of steps when an arrow hit the ground between them. Suddenly a wall of bright green flames erupted from it. Razgovor reared. Gen nearly toppled off of his back. Harley broke for the side of the corral. “They got into the shop,” Root yelled over the roar of the fire.

 

Shaw fought to keep Razgovor steady. “I can wheel around it and grab Harley.”

 

Before Root could reply a shout came from the trees. Several catalysts came running towards them on Root’s side of the wall. She looked between the men and Shaw, “Go.”

 

“What? No.”

 

“You promised me Shaw. Gen gets out, no matter what.”

 

“You knew this would happen,” Shaw accused. Just like her not to share all the details.

 

Root shook her head. “I guessed. Please, Sameen.” Shaw didn’t want to go. She didn’t leave people behind. Especially not… “Root.” It was as close as she came to pleading.

 

“I’ll be right behind you.” She ducked under a swinging sword. Root backhanded her attacker as she rose again. He dropped his sword to clutch at his now broken nose. Root spun bringing up her right leg and kicking him in the side of the head. He dropped to the dirt. She pulled another vial from her belt and threw it in the face of the next man coming at her. He coughed and sputtered as he became enveloped in white smoke. The move also helped to obscure Root from view. That done, she shouted at Shaw. “You know they can’t be allowed to take Gen. Now go!”

 

Shaw stared at where she had last seen Root a heartbeat longer and then dug her heels into Razgovor’s side. “Yah!” The war horse took off as if hell itself were snapping at its hooves.

 

“Root,” Gen groaned coming to for a brief moment.

 

“She’ll be right behind us.” Shaw hoped Root wasn’t about to make a liar out of them both.

 


	3. Lord have mercy on the witnesses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting help for Gen, then ANGRY SHAW SMASH!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content note: Shaw does some very bad things this chapter. Torture-y things, I didn't get very graphic (I don't think) in describing them but just an FYI on it.

 

The dawn was just breaking over the Blackwood when Shaw eased Razgovor to a stop outside the rear entrance to Daizo’s shop. She quickly helped an exhausted and shivering Gen down from the saddle. The horse wandered over to a trough to soothe its parched throat. The journey had been difficult on them all. Seeing that her steed was settled for the moment, Shaw used the flat of her fist to pound on the shop’s door.

 

A bleary eyed Romeo pulled the door open a moment later. He took one look at Shaw and went pale. “Boss,” He shouted. “Come quickly.” He threw the door open wide and ushered the pair inside. Shaw noticed that he glanced around the yard before closing it behind them to make certain no one had followed.

 

“Sameen?” Shaw turned to see Daizo appear from the front of the shop. He was dressed as he always was, his neatly pressed robes a stark contrast to Romeo’s sleep wrinkled shirt and patched breeches. Daizo had apparently been getting the shop ready for the day’s customers.

 

“Get me a chair will ya?” She replied. Gen looked like she was about to pass out again. She needed to sit down, get off of her bad leg. “Her ankle is broken.”

 

“I got it boss,” Romeo replied appearing with a chair that looked like he had stolen it from some noble’s sitting room given its overstuffed appearance and vibrant orange covering. He quickly set it down and disappeared between the stacks again returning with a matching footstool.

 

“Come on Gen,” Shaw guided the girl to the seat. “Get that leg propped up.”

 

“What has happened?” Daizo asked coming to stand beside them.

 

“We were attacked. Catalysts. Several squads.” Shaw clenched her fist. “I had to get Gen out of there. Root was supposed to follow…” She trailed off.

 

“But you’ve seen no signs of her doing so?” Daizo gently asked.

 

“No,” Shaw grumbled. They had been riding double on Raz. Harley was carrying a lighter load and she was typically faster anyway. Even while dodging catalysts, Root should have been able to overtake them. She stomped past him towards the back of the shop. Just when he realized that her feet were bare she asked, “Do you have any boots back here?”

 

“They’re not my normal stock and trade.” She must have been freezing, riding all that way without proper cover. He nodded to Romeo. “The cobbler owes me a favor. Romeo will go immediately.” Before he had finished his sentence, his assistant was out the door.

 

“Thanks,” Shaw replied. Her voice echoed out from behind the shelves. Daizo heard the clank of a few bottles and then the pad of her footsteps returning. When Shaw came into view she was pulling the cork from a bottle of ale with her teeth. Seemed Romeo had moved his stash since the last time Daizo had scolded him about drinking in the shop. Shaw came to stand in front of Gen and handed her the bottle. “Sip this slowly.”

 

The girl took the bottle with slightly shaky hands. Shaw stood sentinel over her until she took a sip as instructed. “Your wounds,” Daizo gently began, “If you take a seat I can tend to them.”

 

Shaw nodded to Gen instead, “Once she gets that down she should be numb enough for you to cut that boot off her leg and set the break.”

 

“Fine, but let me see to that,” He tipped his head to the side, “Arrow wound on your shoulder, while we wait.”

 

“I don’t plan on sticking around that long.” As soon as Romeo was back with those boots, she was out the door. Besides, she was pretty sure the puncture wounds had stopped bleeding on the way here. The bloodstain on her shirt hadn’t grown any larger at least.

 

Gen’s head snapped up. “You can’t leave.”

 

“I have to,” Shaw sighed. “And Gen, I need you to stay here.” She told Root she’d get her sister to safety and she had. Promise fulfilled, it was time to go back for her partner. She ambled over to crouch by Gen’s chair.

 

“But...”

 

Shaw cut her off. “Now that you’re safe, I have to go back for Root.” Gen looked away. Shaw gently grasped her chin and turned her eyes back towards her. “She needs me more now. You understand?” After a moment Gen nodded. “Daizo will look after you.”

 

“Of course,” the little man replied. “No one would dare harm you here.” That was a brand of trouble no one in the Goblin Market wished to court. The current King of Thornhill was good for business. The proprietors of the market would fight to the last to defend his heir. The fact that she was also loved by Root meant that they would show no mercy in doing so.

 

“I won’t lie, that ankle is going to hurt like hell,” Shaw told her. “But you’ll be alright. I’m sure the voices in her head just told Root to become best friends with a bush or something, but I should…”

 

The front door to the shop banged open, cutting Shaw off. Then the sound of wheels crossing the floor filled the room. “Boss, I’ve got the goods,” Romeo called out needlessly. No one else would dare come in before opening unannounced. There was a shout in high pitched goblin tongue. Apparently, he had brought the cobbler with him.

 

Soon a hand cart full of boots appeared from between the shelves. A small, green-skinned, rat-faced, goblin, his stature little more than that of a child, sat atop the pile of boots while Romeo pushed the whole thing their way. He smiled and gestured towards her when he pulled the large cart to a stop. “Hottie, Maksim. Maksim, Hottie.”

 

Daizo came over and thumped him in the side. He yanked Romeo down by the hem of his shirt until he bent down and then hissed something Shaw couldn’t hear in his ear. The blonde man nodded and disappeared into the interior of the shop. Daizo then turned to the goblin, “Maksim, Ser Shaw requires a pair of sturdy boots.”

 

Maksim grunted as he hopped down from the cart. A stray boot fell to the floor behind him. He glared at Daizo and pointed at the boots still within the cart.

 

“Yes, we will pay you for them,” He replied in the common tongue for Gen’s benefit, knowing Shaw spoke several languages, including a bit of goblin, which Root had been teaching her over the years.

 

Maksim grunted again.

 

Daizo held up a hand to interrupt him, “Before you try to insult me further by implying it will cost double need I remind you to whom Ser Shaw is engaged?”

 

This time there was a grunt and a cough.

 

“When Root returns to the market will she need to pay you a visit? Perhaps Larry could loan you his trunk for the occasion? You do recall what happened when he insulted Root?”

 

Maksim scrambled over to Shaw without another sound. A clawed hand wrapped around her ankle jerking upward. “I take it I need to lift my foot?” Shaw drawled. The goblin emphatically nodded. Gen snickered behind her. “Give me a second.” Shaw sat down on the arm of Gen’s chair. She felt the girl lean her head against the small of her back.

 

Shaw shook her head. Kid didn’t deserve this crap. She waved to Maksim, “Get on with it then.” Sooner she got outfitted, the sooner she could start making this right for Gen, and Root.

 

The goblin grabbed her ankle once again. He twisted her foot to and fro. Traced the arch of it with a claw and then did the twisting thing again. He muttered to himself and then went through the entire process with her other foot. Just when Shaw was about to hit her touching limit, Maksim turned and climbed on to his cart and then disappeared into the pile of boots.

 

Daizo came to stand beside her. He pointed at her feet, “I’m surprised you don’t have frostbite.”

 

“Wasn’t that cold.” Daizo looked at Shaw as if she just said the sky was purple and made of soup. The fire had burned low in the shop that morning, when he started to prepare for opening, he could see his breath inside of the building. Gen was still shivering, though that could be more about the things she had witnessed the night prior. Still, that being said he wouldn’t be caught outside without boots this time of year. He shook his head.

 

“What?” Shaw shrugged. She raised her right foot to wiggle her toes at him, her skin the same warm tone as always, “Obviously it wasn’t.”

 

Before Daizo could reply, a pair of gray, woolen socks hit Shaw in the face. She scowled as she picked them up from where they landed in her lap. “That your way of saying the socks are free?”

 

There was an indignant squeak from the pile of boots.

 

“They’ll, of course, be included in the cost of the boots,” Daizo chimed in.

 

“Of course,” Shaw echoed. She pulled the socks on. They fit perfectly. Soft too, not that itchy, scratchy wool they made the cheap shit out of.

 

Maksim grumbled something rather indelicate but continued sorting through his wares. A few moments later he popped out of the top of the pile with a pair of black boots in his hand. He waved for Daizo to take them from him. He did and then handed the boots to Shaw.

 

The polish on the black leather was so fine she could almost see herself in it. She slid on the left boot first. Then the right. They were secured with three buckles on the side of each boot. She did them up quickly and then stood. Shaw took a few practice steps and then stomped around Gen’s chair. They felt good. She wiggled her toes. Really good, goblin knew what he was doing, that was for sure.

 

Romeo returned from whatever new task Daizo had given him. Shaw watched out of the corner of her eye as he handed something over to his boss. Maksim, having climbed out of the cart, poked her left leg just over the top of her boot. She looked down at him. “These will do.”

 

The goblin’s posture relaxed noticeably. His fear of meeting an angry Root in a dark patch between the stalls of the market assuaged for now. He nodded and adjusted the top buckle on her right boot. He hooked a claw into the back of it and then gestured to the dagger Gen still had tucked into her robe.

 

Shaw raised an eyebrow, “Oh?” Maksim nodded. She reached out to Gen. “Knife.” The girl handed it over. Shaw tucked the blade down the back of the boot. Sure enough it not only fit but once Maksim adjusted the buckle once again the blade was mostly concealed from view. “When this is over, I’ll be doing more business with you.”

 

Maksim smiled…or grimaced, at that news. Shaw wasn’t sure. Honestly, it was hard to tell with goblins.

 

“Here,” Daizo held out a bundle of black fabric to Shaw. Must have been what he sent Romeo after. “If you insist on going back out into the wood, at least put on something without holes, and blood all over it.”

 

Shaw took the bundle from his hands without comment. She wandered back between the shelves for a measure of privacy. There were several garments wrapped around each other. A long sleeved under tunic.  Another longer piece, with an attached hood, that looked like it would fall to about mid-thigh. Shaw was surprised to notice a bandeau was wrapped in with the tunics. Once she stripped off her bloody shirt, she put that on first and then pulled the under tunic on over it, and finally the hooded one over that.

 

Shaw noticed a thick leather belt like the one Root used on missions hanging off of one of the shelves. She grabbed it and hurriedly secured it around her waist. Then she strapped her sword back over her shoulders, taking care not to trap the hood under it. 

 

As appropriately attired as she was going to get, she stepped back into the makeshift sitting room.  She looked to Daizo, who was busy fussing over Gen. “The Guard Captain of Turing, Fusco. Send Romeo to him. He speaks to no one else. Have him tell Fusco to get Sir Reese and a full escort to bring the Crown Princess back home.”

 

“Shaw, perhaps you should wait here,” Daizo hazarded.

 

She shook her head. “Root could have gotten away. She could be out there in the wood, injured.” Or worse, remained unsaid.

 

“And if she is, she knows the wood better than almost anyone.”

 

“Doesn’t matter if she’s bleeding and disoriented.” Shaw didn’t have it in her to sit around waiting and hoping for the best. She drew closer to Daizo and Gen. “If she’s out there needing my help, I have to go.”

 

“And if she’s not?” Daizo didn’t elaborate further, but Shaw knew what he meant. If she’s not alive. If Root was dead, then what was the point in going back? Especially without backup.

 

But if the worst had come to pass… Shaw clenched her fist. All the more reason to be swift. “Longer we wait, the colder their trail gets.”

 

Daizo paled. “Tracking them alone would be suicide.” Shaw shrugged, unmoved by his argument. “Sameen, please consider…”

 

“Bring her back,” Gen interrupted him. “Either way, bring her back, and make them pay.” Everyone in the room knew it wasn’t the pleading of a concerned sibling. It was the command of a queen.

 

Shaw dipped her head, “I promise.”

 

“And a knight always keeps her promises,” Gen sniffed, a frightened young girl once again. She stood up and hugged Shaw. “You come back too.”

 

“I’ll do my best kid,” Shaw whispered into her hair. Gen held her tighter.

 

Daizo cleared his throat. “I still think this is ill advised…”

 

“Noted,” Shaw grumbled as she helped Gen to sit down again.

 

“But I have a few other items that may help you if you insist…”

 

“I do,” Shaw snapped.

 

“In that case,” Daizo held out a vial of violently pink liquid to Shaw. “First thing’s first…” He wiggled the vial, “Drink this.”

 

She didn’t take it from him. “What is it?”

 

“Just drink it.”

 

“I’ve lived with Root long enough never to just drink something without knowing what’s in it.” The one and only time she had, Shaw had sounded like a talking chipmunk for two weeks. No way was anything crossing her lips without her knowing exactly what it was.

 

“Since you are exceeding your usual charming level of obstinance, it is a new formula. It’s intended to stave off infections.” He pressed the vial into her hand. “I know you’ve more lives than a cat, but you should do something more for those wounds than scowl at me and say they’ll be fine.”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes at his scolding, even if it was well intentioned. “Whatever.” She uncorked the vial and tipped the contents into her mouth. Stuff tasted minty. She supposed that was a win.

 

He held out two more vials of the same solution. “For the trip.”

 

Shaw took them and slotted them into some open spaces on her borrowed belt. “You handing out any party favors that are actually fun today?”

 

Daizo smiled, “I do have a few items in stock that explode.”

 

Hours later, Shaw found Harley wandering the wood not far from The Groves. The horse was understandably riled up. “Shh you’re okay,” Shaw whispered, stroking her neck in an attempt to soothe her. “Where’s Root huh?” She asked and then frowned at her own foolishness. As if the horse could tell her. She thoroughly searched the area but found no trace of Root.

 

“To the manor then,” Shaw grumbled. She lashed Harley’s reins to Razgovor’s saddle and pressed on.

 

Again there was no sign of Root. The manor wasn’t empty however. There were six of them. Two catalysts and four shadows milling about the grounds and Root’s shop. Touching their things. As if they had the right to take spoils of war.

 

It made Shaw’s vision go red.

 

Shaw took out the catalysts first; removing the better fighters from the equation. The Shadows put up some fight, their tactics were smarter than blindly charging at the threat, but ultimately she took them down as well. It seemed the guild’s current best and brightest were no match for the old guard.

 

“Should have known better than to piss me off boys.”

 

Shaw bound their hands and feet together. She locked the lot of them in the root cellar after beating the biggest man bloody in front of the group. It was a clear intimidation tactic, but classics were classics for a reason. She knew they were afraid of her. Yet no one was willing to talk just yet.

 

She looked over at her current conversation partner. He looked to be the youngest of the bunch. A newly minted catalyst, his armor had been barely scuffed. She’d drug him out of the root cellar by the hair after letting the group stew for an hour while she searched the grounds again. The fact that she hadn’t found any clue to Root’s whereabouts in that time meant that she wasn’t in the mood to be dainty about the process even to begin. To his credit he hadn’t screamed.

 

Well, he hadn’t screamed then at least.

 

“The human body can undergo an impressive amount of trauma before it actually expires.” Shaw recited as if she was instructing an audience of green recruits. She leaned in close. The Catalyst flinched, they had been at this long enough for him to know that her even tone was far more dangerous than a rage filled shout. 

 

Shaw trailed the blunt side of her knife across his chest. The pressure from it aggravated the wounds already present but didn’t make any new ones. They were taking a little break after all. A man can’t spill his secrets if he cannot breathe them out. “Which means I can have you in agony for days before you’re lucky enough to die.”

 

“I’ve told you what I know,” He wheezed. He had told her how many men had been in his unit. How long they had watched the house before attacking. That Hersh had hand-picked each man for the mission, that they had been planning this for months, practically as soon as word had come down from the capitol about the renovations to the royal residence. She wondered who the guild’s inside man was, as Gen’s travel plans were not widely known, but the boy said he didn’t know. Most notably he told Shaw, that Root had been alive the last he heard, but he had been in the group guarding her workshop and thus had never even clapped eyes on Root the night of the attack. “I’ve told you everything, I know.”

 

Shaw had lashed his arms to the yoke from their little used plow cart and then strung that that up from a tree. She’d made sure he was raised just high enough that he could stretch on to his toes to take a bit of the strain off of his arms. Of course eventually the strain on his legs would cause him to tire far more rapidly than if he could rest all of his weight flat on the ground.

 

She shook her head, “See I’m not so sure about that.” He knew more. He had to know something else she could use. Shaw simply had to determine the proper leverage to pry the last bit out. She was about to start cutting him again when something bumped into her side. Shaw glanced down. “Bear.” The wolf nudged her again and huffed when she didn’t give him his usual scratch in greeting.

 

“Shaw, where’s Root?” She turned to see Ser Reese and Lady Carter ride into the courtyard. They were each dressed in a combination of chainmail and plate armor, as if they had been expecting a fight. Shaw wanted to curse them. Typical. Always late to the party. Always leaving her to do the dirty work.

 

She threw the knife into a nearby stump, then wiped her bloody hands on her thighs. “That is just what my new friend here and I were discussing.”

 

“Looks like he’s just bleeding,” Carter replied. The disapproval practically flowed off of her in waves. “You don’t look much better.”

 

“It’s to be expected,” Shaw drawled. She could give less than a single damn about anyone’s approval under the circumstances, let alone how she looked. “You see as a catalyst they teach you not to break under torture. You’re prepped to withstand going without sleep and food. Trained to ignore pain.” She gestured to the man’s right arm. “Of course they can never quite replicate the feeling of a severed limb.” She’d removed his hand about an hour ago.

 

Reese climbed down from his horse. “Why did you do this?”

 

“Why?” She growled. She liked Reese but she was beginning to see why Root constantly called him stupid. “He came into my home and attacked me. He attacked Gen. And then he took something from us. So I took his ability to ever hold a sword again to start.” She glared back at the Catalyst. “To start.”

 

Carter didn’t look any happier about that answer but she at least asked something sensible in return, “Has he told you anything?”

 

“This kid’s relatively green so some, not enough for my liking. Which is why,” She reached for something in the fire she had started for this exact moment, “We’re going to get a little more creative.” She held up an iron rod. One end was a giving off a bright red glow. “Did you know some of the stuff Root keeps in her little laboratory can make fire burn hotter than any forge?” She waved the rod at the Catalyst’s face. He pulled his head back from the sheer heat wafting from it. “You sure you don’t have anything else to tell me?” Before he could answer she jabbed him in the side.

 

He screamed. “Stop, stop.”

 

Shaw looked bored. “Sure, just tell me what I want to know.” She poked him again. He convulsed from the pain. His chest slamming into the hot iron again and again as his body shook uncontrollably.

 

“Shaw,” Reese barked. “Your hand.”

 

She looked down, the red portion of the iron was now partly on her palm. She didn’t realize that her grip had slipped so that her hand was touching the heated metal until that moment. To be honest, Shaw hadn’t felt a thing. Still didn’t even as she was staring at the glowing iron against her skin.

 

“Is fine,” She finally snarled. “Can’t say the same for him though.” She prodded the hanging man in his side with the glowing metal again. This time he didn’t scream, only whimpered as his sweat and skin let off a little sizzle. “Looks like the nerves are dead in that spot. Though maybe I’m thinking too small.” She stuck the iron back into the fire. She reached into a pouch on her borrowed belt and held up a vial, “I wonder what would happen if we skipped the rod and poured some of this stuff directly on to your skin?”

 

Reese tensed at the idea. He had been edging closer to her the entire time. “Shaw,” He cautioned. She could tell by his tone that he was thinking about doing something stupid like trying to physically restrain her in order to save this waste of air. She glanced him and then back at the trembling boy. She moved to uncork the vial.

 

Reese put his hand on her shoulder. “Shaw, that’s enough!”

 

She rolled her eyes, but after a beat she put the vial away. “Of course you’d show up late and then go squeamish on me,” Shaw scoffed as she looked up at Reese.

 

“We left as soon as King Harold told us…”

 

“What about Gen?” Shaw cut him off. She didn’t care why they had come, seeing as they had shown up far too late to be of any use to her. “She’s with Daizo.”

 

“Zoe, has her,” Carter replied. “She’s safe. Should be halfway to the capitol by now.”

 

That was good. Zoe wouldn’t let anyone touch Gen. Kid would feel much better once she was safely home. She released a breath, and now Shaw’s focus could be completely on discovering what happened to Root and making these assholes pay for it. “What do you two want then?”

 

“We’re here to help you find Root apparently,” Reese answered.

 

“Interrupting my interrogation is you helping?

 

“Keeping you from doing something you’ll regret, is helping,” He countered.

 

“I don’t do regret.” But she did step aside when Reese moved to cut the Catalyst down. She knew when a man had reached his limit. “The others are tied up in the root cellar.” Reese nodded and picked him up. He’d have to be carried, too weak from pain and blood loss to walk the short distance himself. “They were searching the house and grounds for something.”

 

Reese nodded. He knew it was her way of telling him what to ask for should anyone decide to talk. Once his cargo was secured, Reese started towards the cellar. Shaw silently glared as he carried her captive out of sight.

 

She jerked away when she felt Carter poke her arm. “Give me your hand, you idiot.” Carter was apparently going full on mother hen.

 

Shaw tried to shove her concern aside, “I told you it’s fine.” She was on edge already. She couldn’t deal with her friend’s worries right now.

 

Carter grabbed her wrist any way. “How could it possibly be fine?” She turned her hand over so the palm was facing up. Carter frowned as she examined Shaw’s skin. The flesh looked normal. No blisters. Not even the slightest tinge of red. She looked up at Shaw with wide eyes, “How in the world?”

 

Shaw shrugged as she pulled her hand out of Carter’s grip, “I guess it wasn’t that hot.”

 

“That boy is going to have burn scars for the rest of his life,” She frowned. If he survived, that is. “Try again.”

 

“I don’t know,” Shaw snapped. “And honestly, I do not care.” She pointed to the open doors where Reese had disappeared with the Catalyst. “And that boy you’re so concerned about, tried to kill me. Tried to kill Gen. For all we know…” She trailed off.

 

Carter relaxed her posture, going from confrontational to comforting in the blink of an eye. “They wouldn’t take Root just to kill her.”

 

“The guild isn’t in the habit of taking prisoners.” Sure that had supposedly been the plan for Gen, but she was the heir to the throne. She was worth something to them alive. On the other hand, the guild had a bounty on Root’s head for almost as long as Shaw could remember. Why would they ignore it now?

 

“They weren’t in the habit of operating in Thornhill before, either,” Carter argued. She had a point but Shaw didn’t know if it was worth it to hope. The fact that she hadn’t discovered a body when she returned to the manor was promising, but it didn’t actually mean that Root was alive.

 

“They won’t come here ever again once I’m done.” Shaw swore it. Focusing on retaliation was far easier. They’d crossed her final line by attacking her home. Any lingering loyalty for the organization that had taken her in as a child was now ashes. There would be blood for this. Much more blood. And if Root… She swallowed again. She’d hunt every last Catalyst down one by one until there was nothing left of the guild.

 

“Shaw we have to be smart about this.” Carter crossed her arms over her chest. It was a disappointed mother pose if Shaw ever saw one.

 

“Oh I will be.”

 

“You know I’ll help you, but you can’t just go off on a suicidal rampage.”

 

“I’m not looking to get myself killed.” Shaw rubbed the back of her neck. First Daizo now Carter. “Everyone can stop bringing that up.” She couldn’t make the bastards pay if she was dead. Didn’t they get that?

 

Carter huffed, “We only do it because for some stupid reason we care about you.”

 

“Yeah, clearly I’m surrounded by fucking idiots.”

 

“I’m not going to be insulted because I know you’re upset.”

 

“I don’t do…”

 

Carter held up a hand to shut Shaw up. “If this isn’t your version of upset then I don’t know what is.”

 

“Probably something with more stabbings,” Shaw begrudgingly allowed.

 

“I don’t think we can afford anymore stabbings today,” Carter sighed. Reese had told the truth. They’d set out days ago, as soon as King Harold had told them of his vision. Unfortunately, Root and Shaw had made their home a few day’s ride from the capitol. Even with the advanced warning, Root’s trail was hours cold by the time they got here. She watched as Shaw began to pace back and forth. The fidgeting was highly out of character. Carter shuddered to think what her friend would do if they didn’t find Root alive.

 

“We need to go west,” Reese announced coming to join them. “They’re stationed in an abandoned trading outpost west of the Aletheia River.”

 

Shaw ceased her pacing to glare at him. “How did you come to that conclusion?”

 

“Once the others saw the fruits of your labor, they started to talk. To beg. Said they’d tell me any and everything I wanted, if I kept you away.”

 

“Weaklings,” Shaw spat in disgust. The guild had lost all its standards. She never would have caved under threat of torture.

 

“Did they tell you anything else?” Carter asked.

 

He tensed his jaw, knowing Shaw wouldn’t like this next bit. “They were left here to search for any information on Samaritan and Old Thornhill. A man named Hersh was taking what was left of their squad, and Root, back to someone called Control.”

 

She had known Hersh was involved already, but if Control was on this side of the Shining Sea… Shaw swallowed. “We have to go after them, right now.”

 

Reese nodded, “That’s what I thought you’d say.”


	4. We gonna go to war

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shaw is not good with people when she's angry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week has been a shitshow already and it's only Tuesday so this is the first of two, count 'em, two chapters this week.

 

They rode through the night. Shaw would have kept going, but Reese made them stop just after sunrise to rest the horses for a couple of hours when they reached a small stream. “They can’t take this pace, Shaw,” He grumbled, “And we’ll be much slower on foot when the horses collapse under us. If we don’t break our legs when they do that is.”

 

“Fine,” Shaw growled. “I’ll keep watch. Starting with a perimeter check.” She stomped off into the trees. Bear quickly followed on her heels.

 

“She’s going to blow up or pass out,” Carter noted. She finished stripping her horse of his tack and moved over to take care of Razgovor. “Probably blow up and then pass out just to be extra difficult.”

 

“She’ll be fine once we find Root.”

 

Carter shook her head, “Do us all a favor and work on sounding more convincing for when she gets back.”

 

They switched off taking watch and getting some brief rest. They had been on enough missions like this to know that you were smart to grab rest whenever and however you could. Reese took the first watch. He had been unable to coax Shaw out of the woods before it was time to trade off with Carter. He woke up an hour after settling against a tree and closing his eyes to Carter shaking his shoulder. “Get up and grab something to eat. I think Shaw’s had enough of resting.”

 

Reese sat up straighter. “Did she actually stop and rest?”

 

“What do you think?” Carter snorted. “She wouldn’t even come sit down to eat something. Said she wasn’t hungry.”

 

Reese whistled. “This is bad.” In all the years he had known Shaw, he had never known her to turn down a snack. Once she finished half a roast hen in the middle of a duel. Drumstick in one hand, sword in the other, she won the fight and then ordered the serving girl to bring her another hen from the kitchen.

 

“You’re just now figuring that out?” She handed him a chunk of bread and then set about cutting a bit of cheese from a small block she had pulled from her saddle bag.

 

“I knew she was upset,” Reese replied before taking a bite of the bread. He chewed for a moment before adding, “But you know I honestly never thought she was in as deep as Root.”

 

“They’ve been engaged for years…”

 

“Exactly,” He cut her off. “She’s never seemed like she wanted anything more, and anyone can see Root wants everything.” He took the cheese from Carter and shoved it in his mouth. “I didn’t think she was this invested.”

 

“Okay first of all I need you to chew or talk not both at the same time,” Carter scolded him. Her son knew better than to talk with his mouth full, shouldn’t a grown man? Reese pointedly swallowed under the force of her glare. “Secondly, how long have you been sleeping with Zoe?”

 

“What’s that got to do with?” His eyes darted over to the opposite side of the clearing where Shaw suddenly appeared. Bear followed a moment later, still shadowing her every step. She stomped over to Razgovor’s tack without sparing the two of them a glance and began getting the horse ready to set out again.

 

“It means,” Carter began, her voice hushed so as not to alert Shaw they were discussing her, “That you don’t have room to talk about anyone else’s reluctance to make it to an altar.” Reese choked a little at that. Carter rolled her eyes and carried on with her point, “And that everyone does these things in their own time.” She began to hurriedly pack everything away. The last thing they needed was to lose Shaw too. Carter gestured for Reese to hurry as well. “Though I seriously think you’re underestimating our friend’s level of investment.”

 

Reese coughed, his throat was still a bit agitated. “Either way, Shaw seems to want to get moving.”

 

“You think?” Carter drawled. She picked up her saddle bags and slung them over her shoulder. “Get yourself together before she leaves us here.”

 

“Are you two interested actually in finding Root, or are you planning on sitting on your asses all day?”

 

The look Carter gave Reese was louder than any I told you so she could have said. He stood up and made his way to his gear. “We’re ready to move on when you are.”

 

“Really,” She grumbled. “Because I was ready hours ago.”

 

“We’ve been over this Shaw,” He huffed as he picked up his saddle. “The horses needed the rest.” He worked quickly to re-saddle his horse. He noted that Carter was almost finished with hers.

 

Shaw was already vaulting onto Razgovor’s back. The massive war horse snorted as she settled herself, but overall didn’t appear to be any worse for the extended amount of traveling he had been through. In fact, he dug his front left hoof into the dirt as if preparing to charge into battle. Reese shook his head; the beast was just as stubborn as his owner.

 

“It’s not much further to the first crossing now,” He told her, in an attempt to be reassuring.

 

It failed tremendously. “Then why did we stop? We could have been on a boat already.”

 

“Are you this terrible talking to your men or are you just especially bad today?” Carter groaned.

 

Reese finally cinched the last strap. “You could back me up, Joss.”

 

“And you could try not to make her angrier,” She countered. Seriously, it was like he’d never worked with Shaw before.

 

“Both of you shut up and ride,” Shaw growled at them as she signaled for Razgovor to head off once again.

 

They reached the river a couple of hours later. A few chickens scampered out of their path as they rode into a small settlement. There were a handful of ramshackle cottages, surrounding the largest building which was a small trading post. Beside it was what looked like a makeshift smithy. The most important detail Shaw noted was the few boats tethered to the riverbank.

 

The catalysts and Root must have crossed the river in one of them.

 

Reese signaled for them to stop. “Here we go. This is the nearest ferry crossing. An old contact of mine runs the boats.” He pointed to a small barge. There was a short, dark haired man sitting on the riverbank next to it, sipping from a brown jug, the sort of which normally held ale.

 

Carter cocked her head to the side. “Isn’t it a little early for ale?” She leaned forward in her saddle to read the sign next to the boat. “5 Gold per head, babies double.”

 

“Oh you can’t be serious,” Shaw growled. This guy was going to help them?

 

“Leon’s a bit morally dubious, but he can be trusted.” Reese turned to look at Shaw, “He saved your friend Cole, once upon a time, remember?” She nodded.  Though in her opinion that did not necessarily mean he could be trusted. Anyone could stumble into a good deed, especially if there was the potential for a reward involved. “All the ferrymen work for him,” Reese explained further. “If they came through here he’ll know about it.”

 

A lucrative business opportunity had presented itself once Samaritan had been killed. Ancestors of those families that survived the fires of Old Thornhill began to make the pilgrimage to the Monument Valley to pay their respects. The most direct route led pilgrims around the southern edge of the Blackwood and then traveled along the river until they found someone with a boat to shepherd them across. The money was so good that many men, including this Leon apparently, gave up fishing entirely to serve as full time ferrymen.

 

“Let me do the talking,” Reese instructed as they climbed down from the horses. “Leon is a bit skittish. He knows me so…”

 

“Whatever,” Shaw growled stomping past him. “Hey sailor!” She called out.

 

Leon stood up from his seat as she approached. “You looking to cross?” He pointed to the sign. “I know it says five, but for a beauty such as yourself I’ll do it for four.”

 

Shaw grabbed his right arm and brought it up and around behind his back. She leaned in to hiss in his ear, “Have you taken anyone across in the past two days?”

 

“Loads of people, its good business.” He tried to shirk out of her hold but couldn’t. “Hey,” Leon yelped when she tightened her grip. “Are you crazy? Let go of me.”

 

“Tell me what I want to know and I will.”

 

Leon quickly nodded, realizing he had no hope of breaking her hold. “Sure, like I said plenty of people want to take the ferry across.”

 

“We’re only interested in one,” Shaw replied. She shifted the angle of his arm putting more pressure on his shoulder. One good tug and she’d dislocate the joint. “Tall, brown hair, hot, scar on her cheek. She was probably injured.”

 

“I didn’t see anyone like that.” There was something in his tone. He wasn’t telling her everything.

 

“Think harder,” Shaw twisted his arm so hard there was an audible pop and he fell to his knees squealing from the pain. She followed him down before adjusting her hold.

 

Reese decided to intercede. He knelt down in front of the whimpering man. “Leon, think quickly. Your shoulder is already dislocated. She’s about to break your arm.” He clenched his jaw, “Understand that she’s only going to start there.”

 

“Oh let her,” Carter argued. “Does he really need both hands to fish?” She glanced pointedly at his waist, “And if Shaw decides to work lower than that, well it’s not like it would be any great loss if this guy never fathers any children. Besides, I hear they cost extra.” Bear growled as if in agreement with Carter.

 

“There was one woman.” Leon practically shouted. “She was wearing a cloak, covered her head to toe, including her face and hair. She didn’t talk much. Mumbled mainly, something about gems and semen.” Reese and Carter blinked at him.

 

Shaw understood however, “Gen and Sameen.” Root had been here. It was highly likely she had been drugged and this idiot had done nothing to help her.

 

“Sure, whatever,” Leon nodded. “T-the men with her said she was drunk,” He stammered. Shaw used her free hand to bend back one of his fingers with a snap. “Aye. I didn’t know anything was wrong; some of these pilgrims like to party.”

 

“How long?”

 

“Yesterday, a little after mid-day. They woke me up from my afternoon nap pounding on my door. Paid double, so I didn’t ask a lot of questions.”

 

Shaw pushed him away. The force was so strong that he toppled face first into the dirt. She rushed back to the horses to collect her saddlebags. “Was that necessary?” Reese grumbled.

 

“Very.” She nodded towards the boat. “Scrape him up from the dirt if you want, but I’m leaving.”

 

“What about the horses?” Carter asked stepping forward to assist Shaw with their gear. The raft-like ship Leon used as a ferry was the largest boat here but it wasn’t nearly large enough to hold them.

 

Shaw pursed her lips in thought. “Hey, stupid,” She called over to Leon. “Anyone in the trading post willing to board horses?”

 

“Owen. He does it all the time.”

 

“Take Reese to him.”

 

“What about my boat?”

 

Shaw glared at him as she threw her saddlebags over her shoulder. “If you hurry, you can watch us row away.”

 

Leon pointed towards the smithy. “It’s that way.” Reese took his and Carter’s horse’s reins. Razgovor tried to bite Leon when he reached for his. Shaw whistled, catching the war horse’s attention. She pointed at Reese. Razgovor butted Leon aside with his head and then trotted after Reese and the other horses. After one last pitiful look at the boat the ferryman followed.

 

Carter shook her head at the sight. “Your horse is taking this situation about as well as you are.”

 

“Root gives him apples,” Shaw mumbled. She nodded towards the boat. “Let’s hope that thing is more sea worthy than it looks.” She snapped her fingers, “Bear, come.” The wolf eagerly bounced over to her side.

 

She had the boat just about ready to go when Reese returned with Leon in tow. Shaw glared at the men as she pulled in the lines. “Why is he here?”

 

Reese shrugged. “Someone has to watch the boat once we leave it.” He pushed Leon up and on to the deck. “I’m sure he can also help row.”

 

“Like hell,” Shaw grumbled. “He’d probably sink us.”

 

“Hey, it’s my boat, if anyone is going to sink it…”

 

She directed a particularly cutting glare at Leon. “Did I say you could speak?”

 

“No, ma’am,” He squeaked.

 

Shaw turned to look at Reese, completely unimpressed both with Leon and him for bringing him along. He was unbothered by her threatening look, having been on the receiving end of it far too often. “Come on Leon,” He gestured towards the covered section at the front of the boat. “How about you take a seat out of the sun while Shaw and I cast off.”

 

Reese figured the trip across the river would take about three hours. The water wasn’t terribly deep in this area but it already cut a wide swath across the countryside and the current they would be working against was strong. Once they had set off, Reese left Bear to watch over a grumbling Shaw while he went to go check on Carter and Leon. The boat’s owner was laid out across a bench in the shaded open cabin. Reese nodded to Carter who sat across from him. “Try and get some rest. I’ll see if I can get Shaw to do the same.”

 

Carter snorted, “I think you better let her work out some of her energy on the river first.”

 

“She’s crazy.” Leon sat up to better argue his point. “You two do realize that woman is a complete menace right?” His voice rose in volume the more he thought about what she had done to his arm. Owen had loaned him a handkerchief; which Reese had fashioned into a makeshift sling after resetting the joint. He pointed to it as he elaborated, “She just attacked me for no reason. Who does that?” He didn’t let them answer. “Madwomen, that’s who. Tell me you two realize that!”

 

Carter stood up and crossed the narrow space to reach over and slap him on the back of the head, “I realize if you don’t shut up she’s going to hear you and then come up here to drown you.” She leaned in close, “And I’m not exactly inclined to stop her from doing it.”

 

“Just try and stay out of her way, Leon,” Reese added.

 

“Out of her way?” He sputtered. He pointed back towards the stern. “She’s the one who’s stealing my boat right now.”

 

“Actually, you’re still in possession of the boat, so it’s not precisely stealing,” Carter smirked. “When she kills you for running your mouth, then we could talk theft of property.”

 

Leon gaped at Reese, “Are all the women you hang around with hot and crazy?”

 

Carter chuckled, unoffended, he had called her hot after all. She smirked at Reese, “Wait until he meets Root.” She went and settled back on the opposite bench.

 

“That’s the friend you’re looking for?” Leon frowned, “If she really is the wench from yesterday, I already know she’s crazy.”

 

This time Reese smacked him on the back of the head, “Watch your mouth.” Root might make a game of trying his patience at every turn, but she was royalty, more importantly she was family, no one got to speak of her that way in front of him.

 

Leon held up his good arm in surrender. “Fine. If she’s the delightful lady from yesterday that did nothing but babble incoherently, then I still think she’s as soft in the head as the rest of you, but I’m sure a joy to be around.”

 

Reese shook his head, “For a swindler and a cheat, you’ve got a lot of balls, Leon.”

 

Perhaps it was because the guy was so bruised, or because she was exhausted and therefore nearly delirious, but Carter was feeling a little more charitable all of the sudden. “He’s not exactly seeing us at our best.”

 

“Lady, at the risk of getting hit again, I hope to god I don’t see any of you ever again once this is over.” He rolled over so that his back was to them. “Bunch of crazies.” Reese looked over at Carter and shrugged.

 

And just as suddenly all her charity had evaporated. Carter glared at Leon’s back, “The feeling is mutual, trust me.”

 

Reese followed Carter’s advice and left Shaw alone, opting to settle in for a bit of rest. Leon’s snoring woke him up, what must have been at least an hour later. He glanced around, water, water everywhere, they seemed to be about mid-river. Also Carter wasn’t sitting with them any longer.

 

He stood and stretched and then wandered to the stern. Shaw was still guiding the boat. Carter was sitting on the opposite railing watching her. He pointed at Shaw and then back to the front of the boat. Carter shook her head.

 

Reese moved to stand beside Shaw. “Have you slept at all?” If he hadn’t known the answer already thanks to Carter, it would be evident just by looking at her.

 

Shaw gave her standard answer, “I’m fine.”

 

“Why don’t you rest awhile?” Reese held out his hand for the barge pole. “I’ve got this.”

 

She didn’t hand it over. “No you don’t.” She lifted the pole and slid it through the water again.

 

He glanced over at Carter, who simply shrugged. “Shaw, you’re wounded and dead on your feet. You’re about to pass out.”

 

She jabbed the pole into the water with more force than before. “I’m rowing this boat.”

 

This time he reached out and grabbed the pole between her hands. “Not on my watch.”

 

“All you people ever do is watch,” She swore under her breath. Though Reese heard her perfectly.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

Shaw squared her shoulders and glared up at him. “Samaritan, Decima, the fact that the guild has been steadily able to make inroads in to Thornhill for years, you idiots just sit back and watch while they do whatever they want. To whoever they want.”

 

“Shaw, you know that isn’t the case.” Reese shook his head, “The King is right to be cautious...”

 

It was the wrong thing to say. “What I know is that I’m always somehow left to deal with this shit while your King keeps his ass parked on a fluffy cushion in his precious library. What I know is he’s never the one that ends up bleeding. What I know is he’s safe while…”

 

“We’ll get her back, Shaw.” Reese watched as she tensed her jaw. She looked away from him, her eyes focusing on the horizon instead. “They kept her alive this far, clearly they want something from her. She’s smart enough to stall for more time. More importantly she’s smart enough to know you’ll be coming after her. She has faith in you.”

 

Shaw didn’t look at him. “Maybe she shouldn’t.”

 

“Maybe you should have more in yourself.”

 

“There’s faith and then there’s lunacy, John. You forget, I know the guild better than anyone.”

 

Reese nodded conceding that point. But he didn’t believe that Shaw was taking everything she knew into consideration. “Right, so in your experience what has this Control done in the past when he’s wanted something from someone?”

 

“Raised a village. Murdered a Lord’s entire family. Torture, general mayhem… personally poisoned a pudding one time. Occasionally, bribes have been offered.” They both knew nothing the guild could offer would sway Root.  Shaw shrugged, “Depended on the situation.”

 

It was enough to prove Reese’s point however. “So death isn’t always the first option.”

 

She licked her bottom lip, “That was the old Control though.” From what Shaw knew, the Control she was most familiar with had died, and then a new one took over. That guy was the idiot that put the kill order out on her and Cole. He had been killed in a coup not long after the fall of Samaritan and yet another new Control was named. He or she had kept things with the guild relatively quiet in relation to Thornhill until now. “I don’t know for sure how this Control operates. I don’t even know who he is.”

 

“Yet you don’t absolutely know that they will kill Root.”

 

“It’s an assassins’ guild. Sort of what they’re known for no matter who’s in charge.”

 

“Then why go to all the trouble to take her to Control?” Shaw shook her head. She didn’t have an answer for that one. Reese smirked, “Like I said have some faith. Root’s like a cockroach…”

 

Shaw snorted at that, “Really?”

 

“I just mean she’s hard to get rid of.”

 

“I’m going to tell her you said that.”

 

“Good,” He shrugged, unbothered by the implied threat of Root’s wrath. “That means deep down you know that we’re going to find her.”

 

Shaw narrowed her eyes at him. For a heartbeat Reese thought she was going to hit him. Then her posture relaxed. “You’re a tricky little shit, for someone so absurdly tall,” She sighed as she let go of the pole, “Anyone ever tell you that?”

 

Reese took over propelling the boat forward. “Not in so many words.”

 

“Probably afraid they’d confuse you with too many syllables.” She turned and walked away from him, towards the bow. Bear stood up and trotted after her.

 

“Try to grab a nap?” Reese called out. He probably had another hour of rowing before they hit the far shore, Shaw may as well make the most of it.

 

“Yes, mother.”

 

Once Shaw was out of earshot, Carter ambled over to him. “You redeemed yourself a bit there.”

 

He grimaced. “Wasn’t easy.”

 

“Yeah,” Carter smirked. “Was your yearly talk about feelings as painful as it looked from over there?”

 

“Didn’t see you stepping up to do it, Joss.”

 

“She takes it better from you. You’re both emotionally constipated.” She held up her hands, “When I try it comes off as judge-y.” Carter quirked her lips, “That’s Zoe’s assessment by the way.”

 

“Emotionally constipated does sound like something she’d say.”

 

“Oh no that bit was all me,” Carter laughed. They each turned their heads to stare at the front of the boat when they heard Leon shout. “I better go make sure Shaw doesn’t feed that idiot to Bear.” She started to walk away.

 

“Make sure she takes a nap while you’re at it.”

 

She stopped to look back at him. “How?”

 

“You’re a mother, don’t you have experience with that sort of thing?”

 

“I don’t think singing her a lullaby is going to work.”

 

“You could try punching her.”

 

Carter shook her head, “I swear to every god I know; you better never have kids.”

 

They made it to shore an hour later as predicted. Shaw jumped off the bow into the shallow water with one of the lines to help Reese bring the boat onto shore. Then while he secured everything, she grabbed Leon and tied an extra length of rope around his waist.

 

“What’s this for?” He protested. “I’ve been cooperating.”

 

Shaw yanked on the rope, causing him to stumble off of the boat and into the sand. “And I aim to keep it that way.”

 

Leon glanced at Carter. “I can see why she and the drunk one are friends,” He huffed under his breath.

 

Carter rolled her eyes towards the sky, “Gods above do not let Shaw gut this man right here and ruin my good boots.” Leon began to mutter what sounded like a prayer at the threat of gutting. Shaw chuckled despite herself having of course heard the entire exchange.

 

Reese hopped down from the boat. He pointed at what appeared to be a small inn on the hillside overlooking the riverbank. A steady plume of smoke wafted from the chimney, revealing that at least the innkeeper was inside the place. “I take it you can introduce us to the owner, Leon?” His tone implied that it would be in Leon’s best interest to say yes.

 

For once the man got the message, “Of course. Mira and I go way back.”

 

Reese looked at Shaw and Carter. “Let’s find out if she saw anything.” He pointed to a set of stables not far from the inn. “Maybe we can borrow some horses as well.”

 

“Mira loans them out to pilgrims all the time,” Leon chimed in. “Doesn’t charge nearly enough in my opinion…”

 

Shaw shoved him forward, “I’m sure she never asked for your opinion.”

 

The group quickly crested the hill and entered a well maintained courtyard. Now that they were close, they could see that there were several horses in the stables. That bode well for the rest of their journey at least. Reese took the lead, pulling open the door to the inn and after peering inside, waving the rest of them forward.

 

“Bear, stay,” Shaw ordered the wolf before she stepped through the door and into a large dining area. An oak bar ran almost the entire length of the far wall. It was bracketed on one end by a set of stairs and an open doorway on the other. There were a few round tables scattered throughout the room. The furnishings were clearly old, but well cared for. Shaw glanced around. It looked like there was no one here.

 

“Mira!” Leon called out as soon as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room.

 

“Aye!” A voice floated out from behind the bar. Soon a dark-haired woman appeared in the doorway of what must have been a small kitchen. She was dressed in a simple, dark blue dress. A clean white apron was tied around her waist. She looked them over. Her dark eyes narrowed as she took in the rope lashed around Leon’s torso. “Ancestors, preserve me. What have you darkened my door with this time, Leon?”

 

“Did you loan out any horses to travelers yesterday?” Carter asked before he could reply or worse yet, Shaw could blow up at the woman.

 

Mira shook her head, “No. No one’s come in for a few days. Weather’s been threating snow, not many pilgrims like to cross until winter’s good and gone.” She moved to put the bar between herself and her new guests. “There was a group of men that met the ferry yesterday though. Stayed outside. Brought their own horses.” She glanced at Leon. “Didn’t he tell you that? Leon’s the one that brought the ones they were waiting for across.”

 

“No he didn’t,” Shaw growled in reply. She shoved Leon down into a chair and began to tie him to it with the extra length of the rope she had been holding like a leash.

 

“You didn’t ask me,” He argued. She smacked him on the back of the head. “Owe! Is this rough treatment necessary?”

 

Shaw ignored him and kept winding the rope around him and the chair until she was certain he wouldn’t be able to move. When she was finished she directed her attention to Mira. “If that idiot or his boat aren’t here when we get back, I’ll burn this place to the ground.”

 

“Hey, I can’t stay here,” Leon protested. “I have to make a living!”

 

Shaw whirled around and kicked the chair, causing it and him to crash to the floor. She stood over Leon glaring down at him, “You keep testing me, you won’t live long enough to worry about a few days’ missed income.”

 

“Days?” Leon squeaked. Shaw rolled her eyes. That’s what he picked up on from that sentence? Greedy idiot.

 

“We’ll pay you for your time,” Reese interjected.

 

“He’ll pay you for your time,” Carter corrected. At Reese’s raised eyebrow she elaborated, “Did you see how much he charges for a one-way trip? Guy’s a cheat.” As far as she was concerned he could stand to miss a few days’ pay like Shaw said.

 

“It’s a reasonable markup. A man’s got to live.” He looked over at Mira for support.

 

She threw her hands up in the air. “I always told you someone was going to kick your ass one day for the prices you charge. Now you drag me into your mess.” She fully believed the tiny, angry one would burn down her inn.

 

“I’m the one being dragged everywhere lately,” Leon argued.

 

“Because you’re an idiot,” Shaw grumbled, stomping out of the room. The door slammed behind her. The rest of the group released a breath, relieved that the conversation had finished without bloodshed. However, a moment later they all startled when the door banged open again. Shaw stuck her head back inside, “We’re taking three horses.”

 

Mira nodded, “Fine.” She wasn’t about to tell the crazy woman no. She also planned to make damn certain that Leon didn’t give her any reason to follow through on her threat.

 

Reese dug into his money belt, “Suppose I’m paying for those too.”

 

Carter nodded, “I’ll go help Shaw with the horses while you settle up.”

 

She found Shaw waiting beside the door with Bear when she stepped into the courtyard. “Did she buy it?”

 

Carter was confused, “Buy what?”

 

“That I’d burn her place down.”

 

“Well seeing as I thought that threat was completely serious…”

 

“Really?” Shaw snorted. “I’m pissed at pretty much everything that moves right now, but even I have limits.” The innkeeper didn’t do anything wrong. Yeah, maybe there was a better way to make sure she’d keep an eye on Leon than threats, but better ways tended to take time they didn’t have to waste.

 

“You seem to be pushing those lately.”

 

Shaw wasn’t in the mood for another scolding. “Seriously, Carter do you think she’ll set that idiot loose?” Best case, if he took the boat it would be a long trip back to The Groves, with a most likely injured Root. Not ideal. Worse yet if he went and ran his mouth around the wrong people, tipped off the guild and they decided to remove Root from play entirely.

 

Shaw swallowed. If she was still around to be removed that is.

 

“No,” Carter shook her head. The pair of them began walking towards the stables. “I think she’s smart enough to realize you’re not someone she wants to cross for Leon’s sake.” Shaw snorted at that. Damn right. “And I’m sure John is in there paying her double what the horses are worth with the promise for more just to keep an eye on him.”

 

“He should give her triple, just to have to listen to that guy whine for however long we’re gone.” If she didn’t owe him for saving Cole’s life, Shaw would have dropped him in the middle of the river for being annoying…and a crook.

 

They soon found three horses that were up to their standards. Shaw made certain that the one she picked looked able to handle the weight of two riders over a long distance. She still believed what she had told Carter the day before; she didn’t know if she had it in her to hope, but Reese did have a point earlier. If the guild had kept Root alive long enough to make it here, maybe she was clever enough to keep herself alive long enough for Shaw to find her.

 

Maybe.

 

“Mira showed me an old map she had of the area,” Reese announced as he came to join them. Carter handed him the reins of a brown and white gelding. He nodded his approval of her choice before continuing. “There was a trading post marked on it. Looked to be about two hours south of here.”

 

“How can we be sure it’s the right one?” Carter asked as she climbed into her saddle. The horse she had chosen tossed its head as she settled into the seat.

 

“Not much else out here,” Reese shrugged. He glanced over at Shaw. “Do you think they’d take the time to build something new?”

 

She shook her head. “They wouldn’t go too far north with all the travelers heading toward the Monument Valley.  New construction would draw too much attention from travelers coming up this way from one of the river crossings to the south.” Shaw clenched the reins in her fist. “They’d want to lay low, but be near enough a main road to make a run for it should anything go wrong.”

 

Reese climbed on to his horse. “Well, let’s see if we can make them run.”

 

They weren’t far along when it began to snow. Reese, being the one who had seen the map had been riding point. He slowed his mount so Shaw and Carter’s horses could trot beside him. “Little late in the season for snow.”

 

“Mira did say the weather looked like it was going to turn.”

 

Shaw flipped her hood up, “Weather’s always been a bit erratic this side of the river.” She recalled the blizzard she and Root had been trapped in while traveling to Old Thornhill Keep. She had thought Root’s teeth were going to chatter right out of her head. She idly wondered if Root was warm enough wherever she was now.

 

“It’s trouble if it turns into a full storm.”

 

“We’ll worry about it if it happens.”

 

The snow continued to fall even as they travelled further south. The only positive was that the fall remained light. The cold would be more of an issue than anything else if they had to remain out on the road in these conditions. Though it did begin to slow their travel slightly.

 

That or the map Reese had seen wasn’t entirely accurate.

 

It had been over three hours and Shaw was ready to snap when they found it. She had just brought her horse to a stop on the top of a small rise. She looked down across the land below and caught a glimpse of the trading post nestled between the trees. “Finally,” She huffed.

 

“That’s definitely the trading post from the map,” Reese noted as he glanced over at her. “But is it the place we’re looking for?”

 

Shaw dug into her saddle bag for her spyglass. Once she had it in hand, she was able to run her eyes over the complex in detail. A high wall made a large box around what looked to be a small stable and a larger dwelling further back. Several of the logs in the outer wall had been replaced recently. Their warm brown tones were a marked contrast to the weathered gray of their neighbors. The iron brazier near the gate wasn’t new, but it showed no signs of rust. The land around the place looked overgrown on first glance, but to her trained eye there had been clear attempts made to thin out the undergrowth so as to improve sight lines from the walls. “This is the place.”

 

She turned her horse away from the road. “Let’s see if we can get a better view.” As much as she wanted to charge down there and ruin everyone and everything between her and Root, that wasn’t the best way to play this.

 

They watched for over an hour until Shaw had finally had enough. “It’s either empty or they’re waiting for us to go in.” They had tied the horses within the shelter of some nearby trees before settling in for their vigil. Nothing had changed during the time they watched except for the level of snow on the ground.

 

“And that’s exactly what you want to do,” Carter supplied.

 

“We may as well, Joss,” Reese added. “Either way, we’re not doing Root any good sitting up here.”

 

“Exactly,” Shaw agreed. Though she had a bad feeling. Place was too quiet. Control would have had guards stationed. Lots of guards in light of just whom they were holding in there. They should have seen someone walking the perimeter, checking the stables, or hell stumbling off to relieve themselves by now. There was an eerie quality to the stillness.

 

Maybe they had gotten tipped off somehow…

 

“Come on then,” Carter said standing up. “Sooner in, sooner done.”

 

“No wonder you only have the one kid with that attitude,” Shaw grumbled.

 

Carter rolled her eyes, “You spend too much time with Root.”

 

“And yet we’re helping her rescue her,” Reese muttered, though there was no malice in his tone.

 

“Don’t act like you don’t like her.”

 

“I don’t like her,” Reese scoffed. His feelings for and about Root were, complicated. Like definitely didn’t cover it. “I’m fairly certain she’s my curse for doing something very bad in another life.”

 

“He’s still jealous that Bear likes her better,” Carter whispered to Shaw. Bear woofed to back her up.

 

“Maybe you’re all my curse.”

 

“Yeah, you must have been a real asshole to get stuck with us.” Shaw narrowed her eyes. “Can we go, or do you want to take a minute to read some tea leaves to make sure?”

 

Reese waved her forward. Frankly, he was tired of waiting too. “Lead the way.” They stuck to the shadows and then ducked between patches of brush to try and maintain some level of stealth.

 

“Wait,” Carter took Shaw’s arm about halfway down the hillside to stop her from pressing forward. “A sentry.” She pointed up towards the top of the wall.

 

Shaw glanced up. Sure enough there was a man sitting on a small stool just to the side of the gate. She crouched down further in the brush. “Did he see us?”

 

“Don’t think he’s seeing anything,” Carter replied. “He looks dead.”

 

Shaw squinted up at the seated man again. He didn’t appear to be breathing, now that she took the time to really study him. “What the?”

 

Reese pointed to the other side of the gate. “The one over there isn’t moving either.”

 

Shaw drew her sword. Reese and Carter did the same. Without saying another word, the three of them moved quickly to the front of the complex. Bear sprinted ahead of them. Shaw could hear him growling. She increased her pace only to skid to a stop once she reached the gate.

 

There were three more bodies just inside. Each of the men stared blankly up at the sky. None of them had any immediately noticeable wounds. Shaw crouched in the mud and snow beside the one closest to the gate. She noted a pink crustiness around his mouth. She checked his eyes. Bloodshot. Shaw had seen many types of death. Best she could figure, “It looks like he choked on something.” She tilted her head to the side, “His own blood maybe. But I don’t see any wounds that would cause it.” No stab wounds. No cuts or bruising to the throat.

 

Reese leaned down and closed the eyes of the one nearest to him. “I don’t think they all just up and spontaneously choked to death at the same time.”

 

Carter kept glancing around. “Some type of alchemical agent perhaps? I’ve seen catalysts use smoke grenades before. Maybe someone figured out a way to make a poisoned version.”

 

“Sounds like something Root would come up with.”

 

“Yeah, except there’s no way they’d bring her to Control without searching her first. Let alone allow her to get her hands on anything she could make a weapon out of.” Shaw brushed her hands off and stood up. She took her own look around. Something by the stables caught her eye. “Over there.”

 

Carter and Reese turned, swords at the ready. “Did you see someone?”

 

“No, but look at the horses.” Shaw began to walk in that direction. The others swiftly followed.

 

Reese peered into the stables. Most of the stalls were empty but, “The three in here seem fine.” Two of them were munching on hay without a seeming care in the world in fact.

 

“Exactly,” Shaw replied. “Had someone done something to the air, wouldn’t it have affected them too?”

 

“Am I the only one that really doesn’t like the looks of this?” Carter asked.

 

“Look on the bright side, Joss,” Reese replied. “We’re not having to fight our way through a wall of assassins.”

 

“No,” She conceded. “But now we have to worry about randomly dropping dead.”

 

“Come on.” Shaw started walking away from the stables. “Still have to search the living quarters.”

 

Carter tightened her grip on her sword and followed her. “Why do I get the feeling that’s going to be a misnomer?”

 

The main dwelling was a two story structure at the back of the compound. The door was open, but like the rest of the place there was no sign of anyone living besides their little group being present. Shaw pointed to the side of the building where another set of doors were set into the ground. “You two search the upstairs. I’ll take the cellar.”

 

Carter hesitated, “Is it smart to go down there alone?”

 

“We’ll search the place faster if we split up,” Shaw reasoned. “If anyone is alive down there, they’ll form a bottleneck at the door, and I’ll have the high ground.” Not that they had any reason to expect this place was occupied by anything other than corpses at this point.

 

“Take Bear,” Reese directed. Shaw shrugged. She had been planning to. “Whistle if you find anything.”

 

Shaw nodded. “You do the same.” She snapped her fingers to get Bear to follow her and then set off toward the cellar. She heard the creak of the front door as Carter and Reese entered the main floor. She stopped for a moment and let Bear sniff around the cellar doors.

 

“What do you think handsome?” She asked in a hushed voice. “We clear?”

 

Bear let out a low woof. Shaw took that as an affirmative. She grasped the handle of the door on the right and slowly eased it open. She waited for a moment, ears straining to catch the sound of footsteps coming towards them from below. Nothing but silence.

 

She crept down the stairs. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim. When they did she found another of what was becoming a familiar scene. There were four more catalysts dead in the open area at the bottom of the stairs. Like the men above, they looked like they had suddenly choked on their own blood and then had fallen where they stood. Off to one side of the space there were some signs of a struggle. Drag marks in the dirt floor. A little bit of dried blood on the wall. The question was, did the fight happen before or after whatever killed every catalyst in the place?

 

Shaw turned her attention to a doorway opposite the stairs. There was a flicker of light, maybe from another brazier? She tilted her head. She couldn’t hear anything. Shaw carefully stepped into the room. No one was inside but it wasn’t empty. There was an apothecary’s case left open on a small table just inside of the door. Several empty vials were laid out in a neat row in front of the case. She tightened her fist around the handle of her sword. Torture. She was familiar with the technique.

 

She sheathed her sword. Given what she had seen just outside and the fact that this was the only room without bodes, she assumed that Control and Root had been in here. Also that the pair of them were long gone. “Where are you Root?”

 

She let out a shaky breath.

 

“And what have you done?”


	5. Dying slow but the devil trying to rush me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Root meets Control. It doesn't go well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the one you've been waiting for/dreading. I'm sure you all have a idea of what's coming. I just hope I managed to do it justice.

 

It wasn’t the first time Root woke up with a bag over her head. There had been occasions when she had allowed herself to be captured in order to lull targets into a false sense of security. One especially memorable mission had included Sameen posing as a bounty hunter, and some steamy hours spent in iron manacles. Good times. This obviously wasn’t one such occasion, but she still found an odd sense of comfort in the familiarity of the process.

 

She took a mental assessment of her situation. It felt like the wound she had received on her arm, in the scrum to bring her down, had been cleaned and bandaged. Her ribs felt bruised but she was able to breathe deeply without much pain so not broken. She was sitting on a hard, low backed chair. Her forearms were lashed to its arms with rough ropes. There was another rope around her chest. They certainly didn’t want her to leave this party early

 

Root listened to the world around her. She could hear footsteps echoing from somewhere overhead. So she was likely in a cellar or the hold of a ship. She cocked her head to the side. She didn’t smell water, in fact the air smelt musty like damp earth and old cheese. Cellar, she decided.

 

She heard the creak of a bolt being shifted in a lock from somewhere in front of her. Then two sets of approaching footsteps. One pair came part way into the room and then stopped. The other continued on until they too stopped somewhere behind Root’s chair. Not long after she smelt smoke. The catalyst was lighting a fire or brazier she’d guess. The room was a bit chilly.

 

She released a breath to steady herself. Things were about to get going again. Root did hope they hadn’t brought her all this way to waste her time on some mundane plot. She’d barely formed that thought when the bag was unceremoniously pulled from her head. “Hello there.”

 

She smiled at the familiar voice, “Lady Claypool.” Root shifted in her seat testing the limits of her bonds. They had been smart enough not to give the ropes much slack. She’d need to talk first. “Well, you’ve proven to be far more interesting than I originally thought.”

 

The noble quirked an eyebrow, “I could say the same for you.” She was seated in a chair similar to Root’s. She was wearing a homespun tunic, split skirts and a hooded cloak in varying shades of gray. Apt as far as Root was concerned. “Not quite as plain and unassuming as you try to be while moving about at court.”

 

“Oh? Spend much time thinking about me?” Root scrunched her nose, “I’m afraid you’re not really my type.”

 

“Yes, you like them shorter and angrier.” Lady Claypool smirked, “We had thought we had beaten that temper out of Catalyst Indigo a long time ago.”

 

“Oh good we’re not going to waste time insulting each other’s intelligence. Excellent.” Root smiled as she leaned as far forward in her seat as her restraints would allow. “One question before we really get started, would you rather I keep referring to you by your married name or would you prefer I called you Control?”

 

If the woman was surprised, she didn’t show it. “So Shaw has been telling tales.”

 

“The topics covered during our pillow talk would amaze you.” Root licked her lips, “Well, on the rare occasion when we have enough energy to talk afterwards.”

 

Control pursed her lips in disgust, “You can save that.”

 

“Jealous?” Root frowned, “Not that I can blame you. I can’t imagine Lord Claypool was very energetic before he passed given his advanced age. Suffering through that marriage and for what exactly? To inherit a mound of scorched earth?” She chuckled, “And King Harold won’t even grant you that.”

 

“We’ll see about that won’t we?”

 

“I can’t possibly conceive of what you hope to gain by bringing me here.” The guild must know about her being the assassin known as Root, but there was no way they knew of her other ties to the crown. They honestly couldn’t expect King Harold to give up those lands in exchange for his pet assassin.

 

“Oh you can’t, Root?” Control crossed her arms over her chest. “That is what you prefer to be called right? Since we’re not insulting each other’s intelligence.”

 

Well, that confirmed one thing. “That’s the worst kept secret in court. But by all means feel free to gloat over the fact you can pay attention.”

 

“You’re not what I was expecting.”

 

“Which tale did you prefer, the mad sorceress or the legion of assassins sharing the name?” The corner of Root’s mouth turned up in a wry grin. “Of course for all you know that second one is still true.” She glanced around, “I do hope you brought enough guards.”

 

“You and I both know you’re one of a kind.”

 

“Beginning with flattery? That’s refreshing. If a tad odd.”

 

“What I want,” Control leaned forward in her seat, “Is for you to work for me.”

 

“Last I checked the guild wanted me dead.”

 

“If that were still true you would be I assure you.” Control adjusted the fold of her skirt. “But it would be a waste. A friendlier association would be of far more benefit to both of us.”

 

“A far as sales pitches go, yours sucks so far. Attacking my home. Destroying my things.” Harming her family. Root’s fingers twitched, longing for the grip of one of her daggers. “Who exactly taught you to negotiate? You’ve been all stick, no carrots.”

 

“You can be well compensated for your services and any perceived slights from the operation to bring you here.” Control drummed her fingers against the arm of her chair. “The guild has more wealth than you can imagine.”

 

“Oh I can imagine a great deal,” Root smiled. “But sadly gold doesn’t really do it for me.”

 

“What do you want? Name it and it’s yours.”

 

She highly doubted that. Root opted to tell her anyway, “At the moment I’d like to split your skull open like an over-ripe melon.”

 

Control stood from her seat. When the men outside saw her through the door, one of them came into the room. “Well, that’s a shame. I was really hoping to do this the easy way.” The man came and stood directly behind Root. He smelled like smoke and day old sweat. Ah her friend from the stables. She had wondered if he’d survived their encounter. His large hands clamped down on each of her shoulders.

 

“However, there are other options,” Control replied and then she began pulling vials from an apothecary’s case on a table next to the door. “I’m told you dabble in alchemy.”

 

“A girl has to have hobbies.”

 

Control meticulously lined up three vials across the table top. A fourth she held up to the light. “Knitting is more to my liking, but I can appreciate the skill required to craft a proper poison.” She turned and stepped towards Root. “Or a good sleeping solution.”

 

“Is it nap time already?” Root pouted, “But I haven’t insulted your hair or your guard’s lack of hygiene yet?”

 

“Don’t worry, you won’t be out long.”

 

“If that’s the case, then the guild should look into contracting with another alchemist.” They were clearly being given subpar product. Indoors, close range, an average sleeping solution should put her down for an hour at least.

 

Control smiled, “Oh this one is perfectly fine for our needs today.”

 

“Which are?”

 

Control signaled for the man to hold Root’s head in place. He nearly lost a finger for his trouble when she bit down on his hand as he tried to grasp her chin. He yelped and had to punch her in the side of the head three times, the third reopening a wound on her cheek, to free his hand.

 

His master didn’t seem concerned by the display. “You’re a fiery one. I can see why Shaw likes you.” Control waved more men into the room. The bleeding man stepped back from the chair and two of the others took his place. Each were extremely careful about where they placed their hands.

 

Root spat out a mouthful of blood. She grinned up at the men with red stained teeth. “Yes, she rather enjoys my mouth.”

 

Another man brought in a tea service. He carefully placed the silver tray on the table beside the apothecary’s kit. Control nodded her thanks at him and gave him the vial of sleeping solution. She pointed at Root, “Take care of that would you.” She daintily prepared her cup of tea while the man uncorked the vial and waved it under a struggling Root’s nose.

 

The last thing Root saw before she passed out was Control smiling over the rim of a bone white tea cup.

 

_“Score another one for the little voices in your head,” Zoe said as she dropped a scroll in front of Root. The princess had been researching Old Thornhill and the legend of Samaritan in the library all afternoon. The current tome she was pouring over featured the designs for the binding runes used on the elder dragon._

 

_Attention diverted, Root straightened up in her seat. “You found the blacksmith.” She had directed the Spymaster to contact the woman on word from Her, once Uncle Harry had revealed his plans to send an outside agent to handle the Samaritan issue. Zoe had been reluctant to seek the woman out at first. After all what could a mere tradesman do against a dragon? However, she eventually acquiesced to the request once Root had reminded her that her particular insight had saved the kingdom, and Lady Morgan herself, quite a bit of grief over the years._

 

_“Yep,” Zoe popped the p. She rocked back and forth on her heels like a schoolboy with a particularly juicy secret._

 

_Root waited for her to elaborate. After a few moments she prodded, “And?”_

 

_Zoe smirked as if getting Root to speak was some small victory in their game. “She may be the only one in this town who's scarier than you.”_

 

_Root chuckled, it was no secret that Zoe still found her demeanor a bit disturbing. “Which means what exactly?”_

 

_“Which means your blacksmith used to be a catalyst.”_

 

_Now Root wasn’t often shocked. Having a god whispering in your ear tended to completely eradicate the element of surprise from most occasions. This bit of news however, “You're joking.” Root had thought that She had directed them to find the woman because she’d be able to craft some weapon or another to use against Samaritan. But this…this was beyond anything she could have conceived._

 

_“Please, my jokes are typically far better than that.” Zoe grinned, “I admit I had a hard time believing it at first too. She’s far too pretty for an assassin.”_

 

_Root snorted, “A pretty face is an excellent way to trap a man.” She knew that almost better than anyone. Root leaned back in the seat and stretched the aching muscles along her spine. She had been working far too long without a break. “Though I wonder how pretty.” She smirked, “Seeing as you share your bed with Uncle Harry’s pet gargoyle, I know better than to trust your taste.”_

 

_“What exactly did John do to make you hate him so much?”_

 

_“Hate is a strong word.”_

 

_Zoe rolled her eyes. “You’re insufferable.”_

 

_“I’m selective,” Root countered. A fact that Uncle Harry seemed to be ignoring, given his insane betrothal plan. “We have more pressing concerns than your poor taste in partners.” Root tapped her fingers against the tabletop. “What is a catalyst doing playing blacksmith down by the harbor?” Not that she wasn’t grateful for this unexpected opportunity, but it simply didn’t make much sense. Catalysts tended to be fanatical in their devotion to the guild. It was rare for any to abandon it. Those that did typically turned to mercenary work. She’d never heard of one becoming a tradesman._

 

_“No clue, but even the king had to admit that she'd be able to get the job done.”_

 

_“Harry added her to the meeting?”_

 

_“Gladly.” Zoe shook her head, “Knowing the rest of the guest list, my money is on her.”_

 

_“She made that much of an impression?”_

 

_The question only earned Root a shrug. After an unimpressed glare Zoe elaborated. “She’s not the best conversationalist, but I was able to do a little digging on the side.”_

 

_“Snooping is why we keep you around,” Root quipped._

 

_“Read the scroll,” Zoe nodded to the parchment she had tossed down when she entered. “I think Catalyst Indigo’s record is impressive even by your insane standards.” She turned to leave._

 

_“You know I’m not easily impressed, Zoe,” Root called after her._

 

_“You will be,” Zoe laughed as she glided through the door, “She’s got a nice ass too.”_

 

_Root shook her head as Zoe’s footsteps grew faint. She glanced at the open book on the table top. The runes on the page seemed to glow. Root bit her lip. Zoe had piqued her interest but she really should get back to work. Her eyes trailed over to the scroll. “But technically learning about this Catalyst Indigo is work.” She bypassed the book and reached for the scroll._

 

The memory faded as Root gasped into awareness. “Shh,” Control chided her as she thrashed in her seat. “Just breathe.”

 

“This is fun.” Root’s body jerked to and fro with spasms from whatever they had poured down her throat to wake her up. She licked her lips. Her mouth tasted like it was full of sulfur and burned twice as much. “Wouldn’t recommend this particular vintage though.”

 

“Pity, I had them whip it up special for you.” Control crossed her arms over her chest. “Tell me, do you know your alchemical theory as well as you know your practice, Root?”

 

“I was never a good student of theory,” She replied through gritted teeth as another spasm wracked her body. “Mama said I was too easily distracted by shiny things.”

 

Control cocked her head to the side, “She sounds pleasant.”

 

Not exactly the word Root would choose to describe her mother. Sure she had her moments, but as the years passed and illness wracked her body, her heart began to harden, even against her own daughter. With her sharp tongue, she would have fit right in one of Lady Claypool’s sewing circles. Root smiled at the absurdity of the thought and because the shakes were beginning to ease. She wiggled her left foot. “The two of you would have got on famously.”

 

“Well, perhaps you can focus for a brief lesson.”

 

“Nothing much shiny down here,” Root agreed.

 

“Are you familiar with the Battle of Wandering Wood?”

 

Root nodded. It was a familiar tale. “Nobleman killed his king. Became king himself, later a tyrant. The people rose up against him. Used a forest as camouflage to ambush his army at his summer palace leagues away from where the new king’s generals told him they would attack.”

 

Control smiled, “At least you paid attention long enough to learn the basics. But do you know how an army of peasants was able to cover so much ground on foot so quickly?”

 

“I have a feeling I’m about to find out.”

 

“You already have,” Control chuckled. She held up a vial of orange liquid. “Widow’s march. I’m told it feels like being struck by lightning.”

 

“I do feel a little tingly.” Her bones were vibrating like a plucked bowstring. The widow’s march was apparently just as potent as the stories told. “Almost if I could fly if not strapped down to this chair”

 

“Well,” She held up a blue vial again, “I let you breathe more of this in and you’ll fall back to earth quickly enough. Up and down. Up and down. You can only go so many rounds before your heart explodes.”

 

Root sucked in a breath.

 

Control stepped forward, “Ready for another nap?” She pulled the stopper from the vial. “Or will you tell me where Samaritan’s remains ended up?”

 

“So that’s what this is?” Root grinned. “You’re the puppet, not the master.”

 

“You should consider very carefully the cost of angering me.”

 

“All it’s been so far is a party,” Root quipped.

 

Control rolled her eyes and waved the vial under her nose. Root tried to hold her breath but her body wasn’t interested in minding her commands after ingesting the widow’s march. “We’ll try this again after you wake up.”

 

_“Samantha.” She blinked open her eyes. Uncle Harold was sitting on the foot of her bed. Judging by the light streaming through the windows behind him, it was sometime after midday._

 

_“Hi Harry,” Root groaned as she sat up. She was back in the palace. “When did I get home?” She couldn’t remember._

 

_“You’ve been here for a day and a half. The journey from Old Thornhill took about a week. I’m told you were drugged for most of it to assist with the pain of your injuries.” He removed his spectacles and began to clean them on a blood-red silk handkerchief. It was a nervous tick of his._

 

_She grinned at the sight. Honestly at one point in her little adventure she was certain she’d never see his face again. “I had been meaning to catch up on my sleep,” She quipped to get a rise out of him._

 

_“You needed it, given your wounds.”_

 

_“You worry too much, Harry.”_

 

_“I fear you do not worry enough,” He gently chided her. It was a familiar argument between them. Harry thought she tended to be a bit reckless with her person when she was working a job. And she thought that frankly he was far too risk adverse about practically everything._

 

_“Shaw?” Root asked to change the subject. She had no interest in arguing with him today. And she needed to know how Sameen was dealing with everything. A tiny part of her feared the other woman had already taken her leave._

 

_He looked decidedly uncomfortable. There was a story there, Root was certain. “Lady Shaw is resting in the green room.”_

 

_She chuckled, “Oh she'll hate you referring to her as Lady.”_

 

_“Do you think Ser would be more to her liking?”_

 

_That brought her up sort. “You plan to knight Sameen?” She certainly deserved the title and all that came with it for what she had accomplished. It was a bit of a shock that Harold had come up with the idea all on his own however._

 

_“It has been done for ones far less deserving of that title in the past.” He sounded troubled._

 

_She could guess why. “Simmons got away didn’t he?” Root sighed, “It’s not your fault.” It was hers._

 

_“Isn’t it? It was my plan to contact him.” He gestured to the bed, “It was disagreement with that plan that led you to this.”_

 

_“It also ultimately led to Samaritan's destruction, and it led me to Sameen.” It was quite possibly the best decision either of them had ever made in her opinion._

 

_He finally smiled. “You appear quite taken with the woman.”_

 

_“Oh, Harry you have no idea.” She slowly stood up. When she wavered, he reached out to steady her. When she nodded, he allowed her to stumble over to her dressing table. Her reflection in the polished looking glass caught her eye. She reached up to trace the wound on her cheek. “I see I brought back another souvenir.”_

 

_“I’m sorry, Samantha. My physician examined you but there was nothing he could do.”_

 

_“What’s a little blood spilled compared to the good of the entire kingdom?” They had done it. Samaritan was no longer a threat. The kingdom was safe. Her family was safe. Sameen was alive. Any penance she had to pay was worth that._

 

_“You’ve shed more than a little.”_

 

_“You think I'm worried about a scar?” Her tone reflected just how little concern she had. She tilted her head to catch more of her reflection. “I think it makes me look rather roguish.” And Sameen had already told her that she found scars attractive. Hers was the only opinion on the subject that remotely mattered._

 

_“Because you required a scar for that,” Harold shook his head in exasperation._

 

_“I'll be fine. Wounds heal.”_

 

_“Not all of them.”_

 

The cycle continued. Control would ask her questions. Root would talk about the weather, the price of wheat, or whatever else struck her fancy. Control would knock her out again in a fit of pique, only to revive her a short time later with the widow’s march.

 

The fifth time she woke up, Root was screaming. The convulsions were even worse, the effects of every cycle compounding. She rocked forward nearly tipping over her seat. Control threw an empty vial to the ground, shattering it at her feet. The woman certainly had a flair for the dramatic.

 

“You have the power to make this stop.”

 

“Help me,” Root hissed, “Please.”

 

“I’m trying to help you,” Control replied.

 

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Root sneered. She wouldn’t ask that bitch for a cup of water if the entire kingdom was on fire.

 

“Tell me, where is Samaritan.”

 

Root began to laugh, “He’s dead.” Once she started laughing she couldn’t stop. Perhaps she was finally going as mad as everyone suspected she was. That thought caused her to laugh even harder.

 

Control didn’t get the joke. “Did I say something funny?”

 

“You’re asking for a dead god when you could speak with a living one right now.” It was absurd.

 

“Ah yes, that.” Control crossed her arms over her chest. “Your little voices that tell you the future.”

 

“Is this your way of telling me you’re not a believer?” It was getting a bit easier to breathe. Her body still shook, but not quite as violently. Root doubted she’d be able to stand though. Her left leg twitched. She needed more time.

 

“I’ll admit you have a unique gift, but I think that it isn’t a god.” Her expression implied that she believed Root was just as mad as everyone claimed. “Your foresight, it’s something else. Some form of magic you’ve stumbled upon.” She leaned in close, “And magic can be taught.”

 

“It’s not something you can teach just anyone I’m afraid.” It was nothing that could be taught at all. Though it seemed Control didn’t want to hear it, no matter what Root said.

 

“You are only as good to me as the information you’re willing to provide me.” Control turned and walked back towards the table.

 

“I’m more interested in who you’ve been getting information from lately.” Root cocked her head to the side. “Someone gave you a little help finding my home.”

 

Control picked something up from the table and returned to Root’s side. “Among other things.” She held a leather pouch in her hands. Control quickly untied the strings holding it closed and when the bag was open held it out so Root could see inside. The bag was nearly empty, but there was a bit of grey powder in the bottom. “Certain, interested parties were able to acquire a small portion of Samaritan’s ashes before King Harold tripled the guard at Old Thornhill Keep.”

 

“That’s how…” Root mumbled absently. Another voice began to whisper in her ear.

 

“We were able to sneak up on the all-seeing Root?” Control sneered. “Exactly.” She drew back and closed the pouch again. “I anoint my men with a pinch of this and they cannot be tracked by any magics. Not even your voices. It’s quite handy.”

 

“And you used so much of it to track down little old me?” Root grinned, returning her focus to the assassin. “I’m touched.”

 

“Where’s the rest of it?”

 

Root opted to play coy. “I don’t know what you mean.”

 

“Obviously, I know Shaw burned the dragon’s corpse but there would be something left, more ash, fragments of bone. Teeth. They don’t just vanish. Where did the King have you hide them?”

 

“Somewhere beyond your reach. She knew he’d hire people like you to seek it out. So the King took precautions. You’ll never find it. But even if you could, do you think Greer is going to allow you your little games once he gets what he wants?” She smirked, “It’s adorable just how wrong you are.”

 

“It doesn’t matter what he wants. Once the guild has the remains…”

 

“He’ll take them from you and leave you with nothing,” Root sneered. Her anger at the sheer stupidity Control was exhibiting reviving her strength. It was beyond irresponsible. The risk she was subjecting them all to by even considering for a moment that Greer was trustworthy… “He doesn’t do his own dirty work. That’s for stupid peasants like you.”

 

“I am a Lady of the Court of Thornhill.”

 

“You’re an opportunist who bedded a senile old man for a worthless title.” Root chuckled. “I always wondered where your wealth came from, given that Lord Claypool only owned his house in the capitol, his title being more symbolic than anything else.” She took a breath, “Then he marries you and is flush with gold. A large dowry perhaps? A wealthy father wanting to pawn off a spinster daughter? But the money was yours all along. The guild sponsored you so you could get to him and thus into the inner circle at court.”

 

Control sarcastically clapped. “My you are a clever one.”

 

“A necessity in our line of work.” Root licked her dry lips. “One must be quick to survive these little intrigues.”

 

“Not really,” Control countered. She waved the guards forward again. “I find in our line of work too many of the clever ones don’t know their place.” She gestured to Root. “Get ready to hold her.” One of the men moved to stand behind Root’s chair but didn’t touch her just yet.

 

It was a slight change in routine. They hadn’t needed to restrain her beyond the ropes after the first round of potions. Seemed Control had another trick up her voluminous sleeves. “Oh, what’s on the agenda this time? I have to warn you I rather enjoy a good beating.”

 

“Nothing as barbarous as that,” Control pulled a small thin bladed knife from the kit on the table. Root recognized it as the sort of blade healers in the Southern Kingdoms used for delicate surgeries. She handed the knife to one of the men and then stepped to Root’s side and brushed her hair back over her shoulders. “Have you spent much time in the south?”

 

“A few jobs here and there. Why are you planning a trip?”

 

“I was a healer’s assistant before I joined the guild. He was from Thornhill originally, but had traveled extensively to study his craft. Did you know they dissect the bodies of the dead in some regions in order to better understand how to treat the aliments of the living?” She gathered Root’s hair in her hands and began to braid it.

 

“Makes a certain sense I suppose.”

 

“There’s a bone in the back of your ear. Looks like a stirrup.” She leaned down to whisper in Root’s right ear. “It’s very small. It’s very important. The prevailing thought is that without it sound can’t travel from your ear to your brain.” Control lowered the completed braid. She held her hand out and the guard gave the blade back to her.

 

Another guard brought her a stool. He placed it to the right of Root’s chair. Control sat down. “What knowledge is gained for the sake of healing can also be employed quite effectively in the sort of situation we find ourselves in now.” She waved the blade in Root’s face.

 

Root’s eyes widened, “No. Please.”

 

Control was unmoved. “If you really do have some all-seeing dragon god in your head, then why hasn’t it saved you by now? Why is it letting this happen?”

 

“God helps those that help themselves.”

 

“In other words no one is helping you at all.” Control’s man placed a hand on the back of Root’s neck to keep her still. “This god that you love so much. Even if it does exist, it’s clearly abandoned you,” She continued, almost sounding bored. “You’re alone.” When Root said nothing else, Control sighed and then began to cut.

 

_“Are you certain this is what you want Samantha?” They were waiting in the secret passage behind the shelves on the northern wall of the library. Lady Carter had escorted Sameen down to the baths a short time ago. Harold would be giving her an official audience soon._

 

_“You mean do I really want to marry a former assassin, who may or may not attempt to murder me when she learns the entire truth of our acquaintance?” Root’s smile at the thought was radiant. “Can't wait actually.”_

 

_“This is no time for your jokes. Marriage is a serious covenant. Do you truly wish to bind your life to hers?”_

 

_“Sure,” She shrugged, “Sameen is hot, good with a sword...”_

 

_“That is no basis for a marriage,” He sputtered._

 

_“How would you know? You never quite made it to the alter.” It was a low blow and Root knew it. One look at his now stony features and she sighed, “Uncle Harry, I want to marry her. Honestly, I don’t know why you’re so concerned about decorum now.” She shook her head ruefully, “Seeing as you were offering Gen and I up like fatted calves to whomever killed Samaritan…”_

 

_“From what Mr. Cole tells me,” He cut her off. “Ser Shaw wasn’t inclined to go through with the marriage portion of our transaction.”_

 

_“She’ll come around.”_

 

_“I recall that you weren’t overly excited about the prospect either.” She had argued quite vehemently against it in fact. Especially, when it came to Gen potentially being part of the bargain. When Samantha had vanished with the book, he had been certain that she had gone off to kill the dragon herself in order to keep the marriage clause from being enacted._

 

_Turns out he was only half right about that theory._

 

_“I just hadn’t met the right girl yet.” It seemed his niece was downright enthusiastic over the prospect of marriage now._

 

_Harold cleared his throat, “And you believe this former assassin is?”_

 

_She took a breath, considering her answer. She knew she needed to be serious with him for once. “Sameen challenges me. She pushes me. She makes me laugh.”_

 

_Root released a breathy little sigh, “When she decides you’re worth her time she is unwavering in her faith. Knowing that faith was placed in me even for a moment was the best feeling in the world. Because even though the world has been cruel to her, she has remained strong and brave and loyal.” Root’s smile grew wider, “I don’t think you could conjure up anyone more right for me.”_

 

_“I’m not sure if this is the best…”_

 

_“I am,” Root interrupted. “Your approval would mean the world to me, but we don’t need it.”_

 

_“Samantha,” He sighed. “I am more concerned about whether or not Ser Shaw will approve of the match once she knows the entire truth.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “I only wish to keep you from harm.”_

 

_“She’d never hurt me. Not like that anyway.” Root smiled wistfully, “And even then not any more than what I’d ardently beg her for.” Harold made a sour face at the implications of that statement. Root laughed at his discomfort. A genuine laugh, not the forced one he had heard far too often as of late. “You'll see when you speak to her. We're perfect for each other.”_

 

Root blinked. She must have passed out for a moment from the pain. Control was no longer beside her. She glanced around the cellar. The door was closed now. No guards, only her and Control in the room. She began to tap her left foot against the dirt floor.

 

Control noticed she was awake. She said something but the sound was muffled. She smiled at what must have been a look of confusion on Root’s face. She moved to the opposite side of the room. “Back among the living?”

 

Root ignored the question, “I lied earlier.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Yes,” She absently nodded, her focus on the movement of her leg, “I said my skills can’t be taught.”

 

Control smiled, “I knew with the proper convincing…”

 

“Oh not the fact that I can hear Her,” Root interrupted. “That is literally a god given talent. Cannot be duplicated outside of my family line and even then I’m quite unique I’m afraid.” The only one of her kind, as far as Harry could tell from his research. Not that she was planning on sharing that detail with Control. She ground her heel into the dirt.

 

“Then why are you wasting my time spouting nonsense?”

 

“I thought you wanted me to talk,” Root giggled. When Control held up her blade again she sighed, “That was rude of me. Apologies. No, what I was attempting to tell you was that I do indeed have skills that could be taught to others given enough time.”

 

“And you think these skills of yours would be of interest to the guild.”

 

Root stilled, “Very much so.”

 

“And now you’re suddenly willing to share this knowledge with me?” Control didn’t seem convinced. Not that it would matter in the end.

 

“What can I say?” Root sort of shrugged. “You know how to make a compelling argument.”

 

“I suppose I have the time to listen.”

 

“Funny you said that,” Root giggled again. “You haven’t happened to notice how quiet it’s gotten have you?”

 

Control cocked her head to the side, “If you’re expecting me to fall for that...” She took a menacing step forward.

 

“Falling, falling, falling.” Root cackled manically. She tucked her chin down to her chest, tilted her head to the side and grinned up at Control, “You’re not very good at this, and to think I’m the one with only one functioning ear.”

 

“You are trying my patience.”

 

Root’s head snapped up, “And you’ve exhausted mine.”

 

“Have you forgotten you’re the one in the chair?” Control snorted, “Or perhaps you simply wish for me to take your other ear?”

 

So over confident. “I haven’t forgotten a thing. Including the fact that she told me that I’d need to bleed for a little while after you cut me in order to have enough.”

 

“Enough what?”

 

“Blood.”

 

A shiver went down Control’s spine. Something about that word and the tone in which she said it; it wasn’t the rambling of a madwoman. It was too matter of fact. “What are you talking about?”

 

“Haven’t you figured it out yet?” Root tapped the left arm of her chair and then pointed to the ground. Control could now see that she had sketched out a series of runes in the dirt and blood underneath the chair with her foot. What she thought were spasms from the pain had been in actuality deliberate movements. Root smiled at her, “Ashes, ashes, we all fall down.”

 

Control turned and rushed to the cellar door. She flung it open to find that the four guards she had stationed outside had collapsed. She couldn’t hear any movement from upstairs either. When she drew nearer to one of the men she could see a pink foam coating his lips. But there were no wounds on his body. No tracks in the dust indicating a struggle. It was if they each had fallen where they stood.

 

There could be only one explanation given the runes. Blood magic. It shouldn’t be possible, however. The practice was banned and the last known practitioner had passed centuries ago, before the fall of Old Thornhill.

 

“She also told me you had an extra knife in the top of your boot. I had to wait for you to get close enough to cut me to take it from you.” Root whispered in her ear.

 

Control spun around. Root shoved her forearm against her chest and threw her against the wall. The side of her head hit the stone, stunning her for a moment. Root swiftly followed placing the tip of Control’s own knife against her jugular. “I told you she was looking after me,” She laughed.

 

Control felt a trickle of blood ooze down the side of her face. “I’m not going to tell you anything.”

 

Root smiled, “You’re not talking to me.” She took half a step back. She looked up at the ceiling. “Now, what do you want to say to this bitch?”

 

A white film suddenly covered Root’s eyes. She cocked her head to the side. The move was jerky, like a marionette with an inexperienced hand at its strings.

 

“Why have you done this?” Her voice was brittle, the rasp of moth eaten cloth dragged across bone. It wasn’t human.

 

Control risked a bit of defiance, “Old Thornhill and whatever was in it belongs to me.”

 

“No, that place doesn’t belong to anyone anymore.” She took a breath, “You however were born of these lands and thus are mine to protect. The only thing you love lives in a cottage on the eastern shore of the Shining Sea, in the Village of Honnahli.” Control trembled against the wall. Her courage turned to dust at the mention of the village. “I guard it. Same as I guard you.” Root’s head shook from side to side. “Do not question my judgement. Do not pursue any of my kind, or our chosen.”

 

“There are more of you? We thought Samaritan was the last.”

 

Whatever was possessing Root ignored her question. “Trust in me. I am always watching.”

 

“What do you want?”

 

“To save you.”

 

“From what?” It didn’t reply. “Save me from what?” Control asked again, her voice bordering on a scream.

 

Root bowed her head. She let out a little giggle. When she looked up, her eyes were normal again if a bit bloodshot. “Isn’t she the best?”

 

Control swallowed.


	6. When I'm coming to the crossroads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now back to Shaw's search, already in progress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good lord y'all I was so nervous about last chapter but all of you seemed to like it more than anything. Clearly, I'm a dummy when it comes to what will resonate with all of you. I don't know what that means for the rest of this. We may have peaked. Every last bit of story may be downhill from here. Just FYI, LOL.   
> Quick bit of a diversion if you'll allow it. I meant to mention last chapter that sgtfarron has posted some fan art for this verse up on tumblr. You may have seen my totally undignified freak out in the comments section about it a few chapters ago. Also seriouslyficent (I hope I spelled that correctly) had made a cover for the first story a while back and put that on tumblr, and I wanted to give them a shout as well. It's great and I am just beyond tripping out that something I do for fun inspired other folk to make art. (I have absolutely zero chill about it, honestly. There might have been actual gleeful screaming.) So while all of you are awesome for indulging in this flight of fancy, they're both especially awesome and just letting the rest of y'all know.

 

Shaw took a few deep breaths to collect herself. She just needed to run this thing down. Seemed like everyone in the place was dead. But Root wasn’t here. And if she had been caught up in whatever killed the catalysts she would have been here in this room. Shaw examined the place more closely. It was clearly set up for an interrogation.

 

She ran her hand across the table. Empty vials. A scant few filled ones remaining racked in the apothecary’s case. The vials of blue liquid were sleeping solutions. There were three of those. The orange, she plucked a vial from its slot and uncorked it. She used her free hand to direct some of the fumes to her nose. It wrinkled when she caught a good whiff.

 

Widow’s march. Shaw was well familiar with the substance. It was used in conjunction with sleeping solution in a particularly nasty torture technique.

 

She clenched her fist. The empty vials meant that the technique had been used on Root. There were only two vials of the widow’s march remaining. Which was odd, as if Shaw was correct about the particular brand of torture employed, then there should have been three vials, like the sleeping solution. Sleep, wake, sleep, wake. It was a cycle. Maybe someone had lifted one from the case before everything got started? Some of the guild members used it to stay awake on long missions. Shaw had always considered it a bit of a cheat.

 

“Do it yourself or don’t do it at all,” She had once told Cole when he suggested using it. Besides, even though the concoction could keep a man awake for hours past the point of exhaustion, and give him energy enough to run after his feet were bleeding, there were obvious side effects if one used widow’s march to often. Insomnia, jitters, some men’s hearts simply gave out over time. Using the substance in increasing amounts along with sleeping solution, sped up that last effect substantially.

 

Shaw kicked the table in frustration. One of the empty vials rolled off and shattered on to the floor. She glanced down at the sound. It was then that she saw it. “What the hell?”

 

There were runes sketched out in the dirt. She stepped closer and crouched down. Shaw wasn’t nearly as well versed in the stuff as Root, but she recognized the symbols. Dragon language. The pattern was different, but it was similar to what she had seen in Old Thornhill Keep. There was only one explanation for their presence here.

 

“So Root did do this.”

 

It should have been a comfort. Root being behind all these deaths would mean that she had indeed survived and escaped. But magic like this had a cost. Shaw didn’t think the price of instant death was going to be cheap.

 

Shaw puffed out a breath as she stood up again. She’d have to take care of this before they left the trading post. Odds were Control wasn’t focused enough to study the symbols properly after everything that happened, but that didn’t mean that it would be wise to leave the markings intact for anyone to come and study them.

 

“Step one, find something to tell me where Root was headed. Step two make sure no one can use these again. Step three find Root and strangle her.” Or kiss her, a treacherous little voice whispered in the back of her mind.

 

“Kiss and strangle her.” She nodded. Plan settled upon, Shaw made her way from the little room. She stopped and reexamined the bodies of the catalysts who had fallen in the cellar. On closer look, the one nearest to the foot of the stairs was missing his sword. “Good girl.” At least Root was armed. Control wouldn’t need to take a weapon from a dead man.

 

She made her way back outside. The snow had stopped while she was underground. Shaw stomped around the courtyard looking for any clues to Root’s whereabouts. She came up short at every turn. The snow had obliterated any tracks. Finally, she opted to return to the stables.

 

Reese and Carter found her inside not long after. “The house is empty.” Reese sounded unsettled. Shaw could imagine what they had found upstairs.

 

“Except for the pile of bodies in the parlor.” Clearly, Carter wasn’t afraid to elaborate. “And the kitchen. And in some of the bedrooms.” She shivered, all those men staring blankly up at the ceiling, a crusty film of dried blood coating their lips. Room after room, the same sight. “Something terrible happened here.”

 

“But Root wasn’t?” Shaw knew the answer before she asked.

 

“No,” Reese shook his head. “Downstairs?”

 

“Empty. Except for more bodies.” She clenched her fist. “I can tell you from the set up in the cellar, that they definitely had her here though.” She didn’t mention the runes she saw. Or how she figured Root had used them to kill everyone in this place.

 

Well, almost everyone.

 

“There were signs of a struggle downstairs.” Shaw told them. “I think after whatever killed everyone finished, Root broke free and attacked Control. Once they were subdued Root made a run for it.” Not a lie. Just not all of the details.

 

“How do you know Control didn’t die here?” Reese, ever the skeptic. “Or survive and leave with Root?”

 

“For one, all of the bodies I found are too young to be Control.” She glanced over at him, “What about upstairs? Were they mostly younger looking?”

 

He nodded, “Men looked barely able to shave. The two women we found looked fairly young as well.”

 

Exactly as Shaw thought. “You can rise fairly high in the guild if you’re smart and rack up enough kills, but eventually you hit a wall,” She explained. “The leadership positions at the top are few and those in them are ruthless in keeping their position.” Shaw gestured around the complex, “You need to be skilled, and experienced enough to either gain the backing of the elders, or to eliminate them to become Control. It’s not a young person’s game.”

 

“Okay so Control probably survived,” Carter allowed. “What makes you think Root got away?” After a moment she added, “Not that I don’t want you to be right, mind you.”

 

“Didn’t find her body did we?” Again Shaw wasn’t about to go into the fact that Root was the one that had caused all this. “She’d be smart enough to take advantage of the chaos around her and get away.” She walked over to one of the empty stalls. “There was a horse in this one, you don’t put fresh hay and water in an empty stall. From the set up downstairs Root would be in no condition to ride.”

 

“So someone else took the horse.” Reese frowned, “I still don’t see how that means she got away.”

 

“Two reasons. One like I said there were signs of a struggle downstairs. Two Hersh isn’t here either and we know he was involved in the attack on The Groves. My guess is based on what I saw in the cellar, Root knocked out Control. Hersh came back later, maybe he had been securing their transport out of Thornhill, maybe he had been out hunting, either way he missed out on the death spiral. He found the bodies same as us when he returned, except Control was still here. He got Control fixed up. Then the pair of them set out to find Root.”

 

Reese seemed to accept that explanation. “We need to find Root before they do.”

 

“Obviously,” Shaw snorted.

 

“Any ideas on that?” Carter asked.

 

“We didn’t see anyone on the road coming down here,” Shaw sucked in her cheeks. “They went south.”

 

Reese nodded, “Makes sense. But if you’re right.” Shaw snorted. “If you’re right and they’re on horseback while Root is on foot, most likely injured, then we need to cover a lot of ground fast.”

 

Carter glanced between them. “I’m sure Root had a decent head start,” She said, though Shaw wasn’t sure which of them she was attempting to reassure. “Still we should probably get our horses and get moving.”

 

“One last thing to do,” Shaw pulled what looked like a glass ball from a pouch on her belt. It was one of the party favors Daizo had given her for the trip.

 

“New toy?” Carter smiled. There was a distinct gleam in her eye. Woman loved her weapons.

 

“Yep, brand new formula. Daizo says this one packs a real punch.”

 

“I need to spend more time in the Goblin Market. I never get to try out anything until it’s been for sale a few years.”

 

Shaw cocked her head to the side and smirked. “If you asked Root nicely…”

 

“She’d still give you all the good stuff first,” Carter countered.

 

“Ladies,” Reese interrupted. “I think we’re missing the point. What does it do, Shaw?”

 

She held the orb up to the light. Swirls of black and green within the glass glittered in the meagre sun. “It wipes hellholes like this one off the map for good.”

 

Carter and Reese took the remaining horses back to where they had left the ones they had borrowed from Mira. They’d take them with them to look for Root. Being able to switch mounts if theirs tired could make a big difference in their travel time. Bear had reluctantly followed behind them. The wolf at first hadn’t moved when Shaw had ordered him to go but eventually followed her command.

 

The fact was she didn’t know how this was going to go. Sure Dazio had explained the basics as far as what his little bauble would do. However, in Shaw’s experience these things never worked exactly as predicted the first few times. She was pretty sure it would explode as promised, but given it was still a test case she couldn’t predict how big the boom was going to be.

 

Hence why everyone but her was well away from the blast zone.

 

She glanced toward the hillside. Carter and Reese were completely out of sight. “May as well get to it then.”

 

Shaw was standing by the gate. She held the orb between her hands and gave it a twist. There was a loud snap and then she felt each half slide a bit. The orb began to glow. Everything was working just as Daizo said it would so far. She set her feet and took a deep breath. Then Shaw hurled the orb at the back of the trading post as hard as she could.

 

The orb sailed through the air. Shaw had managed to get quite the distance on it. The thing landed nearly in the front door of the living quarters. It rolled in the snow, glowing brighter and brighter until it rolled into the house. Point, Shaw. She smirked and then turned and ran.

 

She had made it about twenty paces when a roar rose up from behind her. She felt a rush of wind. Smelled smoke. Something struck her in the shoulder. She stumbled. Another hit on her left side. Then an invisible force knocked her completely off of her feet and into the air.

 

Shaw landed face first in the dirt. She coughed. Her ribs gave a slight protest at that move. She rolled on to her right side and looked up at the sky. “I suppose this had been too easy up until this point.”

 

It began to snow again. She groaned. The gods were spiteful little bitches sometimes.

 

She heard the thundering of hooves drawing closer. “Shaw!” Reese shouted, proving he had a volume other than whisper. She raised her arm so that he didn’t assume she was dying.

 

Bear reached her first. He poked her with his muzzle and whimpered. “I’m alright, Handsome.” She soothed. “Just got the wind knocked out of me.” She reached down and pulled a sliver of wood from her side. “With a few bonus splinters trying to take its place.”

 

“Shaw,” Reese called as he eased his mount to a stop. He was careful to stop well away from where she lay. “You hurt?”

 

“Nah.” She managed to sit up and looked back at the rather impressive fire that was now consuming what was left of the trading post. “Next time I’m running as soon as I throw one of those things.”

 

“Seems like a good plan,” He agreed. Reese swung down from his saddle and walked over to her. He held out his hand. “You know, sometimes I’m glad you hate sharing.”

 

She took his arm and allowed him to haul her to her feet. She wavered for a moment. Reese looked like he was about to say something about it, so Shaw quickly diverted his attention. “Don’t act like you’re not jealous I got to do that.” She clutched her side. The wound wasn’t deep but it stung like a bitch.

 

“Oh yeah,” He drawled. “I’m seething with envy.”

 

Carter rode up then with the rest of the horses. “That was awesome!”

 

Shaw smirked. Reese shook his head. “Don’t encourage her, Joss.”

 

“Unclench, John.”

 

“Does Zoe know about the way you two act around each other when she’s not around?”

 

Reese bristled. “Just what are you implying?”

 

Carter on the other hand simply laughed. “Not everyone considers fighting as foreplay like you and Root.” She held out the reins to Shaw’s horse. “How about we go find her so you can get back to focusing on your own love life?”

 

“So you’re saying this little thing I’m seeing is related to your love life?”

 

Carter rolled her eyes. “I have no idea why we put up with you.”

 

“Don’t start up with me,” Shaw smirked as she mounted her horse. “I’m taken remember?”

 

“Root can definitely keep you.” Carter shook her head, “I don’t mess with demons.”

 

“That hurts, Joss.”

 

She snorted, “You are so full of shit.”

 

“And splinters,” Reese announced just before pulling another large one from Shaw’s shoulder.

 

“A little warning next time,” She growled.

 

“Where’s the fun in that?” He chuckled as he tossed the bit of wood over his shoulder. He started back to his horse. “Let’s go find your lady.”

 

The trip south was easy. They kept a moderate pace so that they could scan their surroundings for any signs of Control’s party or Root. What little snow there was, was light. The road was clear. They didn’t encounter anyone along the way.

 

They eventually came to a fork in the road. One path trailed west. The other led south towards the free city of Provenance. Supposedly, it was the site where the first men embarked on the shores of what was to become the northern most of the Five Kingdoms. Shaw had always thought that story was a load of crap given that the Tree People had been living in the Western Wilds for generations before the founding of Old Thornhill, but you couldn’t tell anyone in Provenance that. They were too proud of the story.

 

They slowed the horses down to a stop. Reese glanced back and forth between the paths. There were no signs either had been traveled in the last few hours thanks to the snow. Bear wandered to the western fork and looked back at them. Reese turned in his saddle to ask Shaw, “Which way?”

 

Something told Shaw to take the path west. Maybe a bit of Root’s intuition was rubbing off on her. Maybe it was because Bear seemed to want to go that way. She wasn’t sure. But she knew somehow that Root was waiting somewhere along that path. “West.”

 

“That skirts the Tree People’s territory,” Reese noted. Shaw was as close as she came to surprised that, that was his only argument against it. “They don’t take kindly to trespassers.”

 

Carter clicked her tongue. “We’ll only be trespassing if we veer off the road.”

 

“You really think this Hersh is going to stick to the road? Or Root?”

 

“Okay, you might have a point there,” Carter sighed. “But maybe we won’t encounter any of the clans. The nearest settlement is a few days ride from here. There’d be an occasional patrol this far out every few weeks at most.”

 

“So we go ahead and hope we’re on an off week?”

 

“We go wherever we have to, to find Root. Anyone who doesn’t like it will just have to deal with it,” Shaw grumbled nudging her borrowed mount towards the western fork. Carter and Reese exchanged a look before following.

 

They rode on, the snow storm ebbed and flowed around them. Sometimes the sky was still, others flakes as large as any they had ever seen swirled and danced along their path. Once again Shaw spared a thought to whether or not Root would be warm enough. The forest around the road seemed to edge ever closer the further west they ventured. They had been traveling for about two hours when they came to a large oak that had fallen across the road.

 

“Woah,” Reese called out, as he had been riding point again. Not that Shaw and Carter needed the warning. Shaw rolled her eyes. The big ass tree was sort of hard to miss. If she climbed from her horse the damn thing would be as tall as her hips.

 

Carter circled her horse around to the base of the tree. “This didn’t fall on its own. There are tool marks here. Someone chopped it down and made sure it would fall across the path.”

 

“Root, trying to throw off Hersh?” Reese thought aloud.

 

“Doubt it,” Shaw replied. “Root wouldn’t be in any shape to chop down a tree.” Frankly, Shaw was surprised they had traveled this far without overtaking her. She had to be exhausted. An image of the apothecary’s case flashed in her mind. Or maybe the reason they hadn’t found Root just yet was because she had given herself a little boost.

 

“Agreed,” Joss said. She had climbed down from her horse to examine the base of the tree more closely. She ran her fingers along the wood. “These marks were definitely made with an axe. One with a broad, beveled blade.” She stood up again, “Specialized. Not something your catalyst friends would keep around that trading post.”

 

Reese tensed his jaw. “Tree People.”

 

“Most likely,” Carter agreed. “Which isn’t good. If they wanted to block the road for some reason, it means that activity is definitely up in this corner of their territory.”

 

“Meaning we’re likely to run into a patrol,” Reese finished.

 

“Or they cut the tree down so they didn’t have to wait around out here,” Shaw supplied. “Fairly effective keep out sign if you ask me.”

 

Reese climbed down from his horse and stepped over to examine the trunk. Bear was scratching along the bark beside a cluster of branches. After a moment spent looking around Reese reached in-between the branches and pulled out a strip of black cloth, there were specks of red thread scattered across it. Shaw recognized the pattern of the embroidery. “Except Hersh clearly didn’t turn back,” Reese said reading her mind. The cloth must have gotten tangled when he tried to climb or jump his horse over.

 

“And so neither are we.” Shaw climbed down as well. They’d need to lead the horses around on foot if they were going to bring all of them along.

 

Carter came back to stand beside them. “I understand why we need to, but we should probably have a plan for if we do run into any patrols.”

 

“I’ve got another of Daizo’s party favors. I say we threaten to blow them up if they try to keep us from finding Root.”

 

“Or we can try something less likely to start another war,” Carter snapped.

 

Shaw held up her hands in surrender. “Just saying it’s there as a backup strategy.” She pursed her lips, “Would beating the crap out of any that get in my way start a war if I didn’t kill them?” Bear came over and nudged her hip. Shaw reached down and scratched between his ears. “Bear thinks it’s a good idea.”

 

“The dog doesn’t get a vote.”

 

Bear huffed. Shaw looked down at him with a small grin. “You’ll get a vote when Gen knights you, Handsome.” Carter made a choking noise.

 

“Joss,” Reese interrupted before she could comment on Bear’s impending knighthood. “You speak their language.”

 

“So do I,” Shaw grumbled.

 

“Yes, but Joss has worked with the clans when they’ve visited court. She’s met their chief.”

 

“I highly doubt she’s all the way out here,” Carter drawled. The Tree People were actually made up of several unified clans. They were nomadic to a point, smaller clans tended to circle a portion of territory in order to hold it. Only the larger clans had permanent settlements scattered throughout their territory. The nearest one was hundreds of leagues away from where they stood, however.

 

“Besides which, I haven’t dealt with every clan. There’s no guarantee I’ll know whoever’s in charge around here,” Carter sighed. It was highly unlikely in fact. After a moment she seemed to perk up. She tapped Shaw on the shoulder, “But they respect you.”

 

“They don’t even know me,” Shaw scoffed.

 

“Yes, they do.” Carter smirked, “Remember when you rode in tourney?”

 

Kinda hard to forget that whole experience. But she knew what Carter was getting at. The jouster that conceded his match to her for slaying Samaritan. Shaw shook her head, “That was one guy, and years ago at that.” Just because he had fuzzy feelings about her killing a dragon didn’t mean all of his kin did.

 

“Wouldn’t hurt to try Shaw,” Reese replied. “We can always switch to Plan B if it doesn’t work.”

 

“Whatever,” She huffed. What did it matter? The ones that cut this tree down were probably leagues from here anyway.

 

“Glad you agree.” His eyes narrowed. “Because we’re going into Plan A right now.” He nodded to the trees to the right of where they stood, “Two archers, up there.”

 

He was right. Shaw could just barely make out two forms crouched in the branches. If there were two that they could see, then there were at least three more lurking where they couldn’t. The only upside was they hadn’t shot at them yet. “Fine,” She groaned. “If this goes bad, I’m using the pair of you as human shields.”

 

“Good thing we remembered to wear our armor,” Carter quipped. Shaw had charged out on this mission with plenty of weapons but only the clothes she had borrowed from Daizo.

 

“I was in a hurry.” Shaw raised her hands and walked towards the trees. She looked up at where she knew the archers were crouched and cleared her throat. “Take us to whoever is in command of you,” She called up to them in their own language.

 

She could hear hushed whispers. Shaw would bet they were debating the merits of going through with her request verses putting an arrow through her eye. A small figure dropped down from the branches after a few minutes. It was a girl. She couldn’t have seen more than twelve winters. She clutched a bow in one hand, a full quiver was slung over her narrow shoulders. “Follow me,” The girl instructed in the common tongue. Most likely to make sure she was understood by all three of them. “But know if you’re planning on any treachery, the others will cut you down where you stand.”

 

“Wouldn’t expect any less,” Shaw replied. She waved Carter and Reese forward.

 

Three more men dropped down from the trees behind them. A fourth man dropped from the same tree as the girl. She nodded to him and he went to retrieve the horses. “Your mounts will be cared for. Come.” She waved them forward. When they moved the three men moved. The rear guard was clearly meant to ensure that they didn’t try to run. Yet oddly enough no one requested that they turn over their weapons.

 

The twenty-minute walk that followed was silent. The girl walked with the confidence of one years older. She had no fear that Shaw would attack her exposed back. Of course that was most likely due to the fact that there were a few Tree People blades pointed at Shaw’s. The sky was starting to purple over the tops of the trees as Shaw noticed that they were approaching a clearing.

 

As they came through a break in the trees, Reese let out a low whistle. Shaw knew it meant he was surprised at how large a contingent of Tree People they had stumbled across. From what she could see, at least three rows of four tents circled a large bonfire. This wasn’t a mere patrol. Something was definitely up.

 

The girl nimbly guided them between the tents. She signaled for them to come to a stop in front of the largest of them all. “You will remain here while I announce your presence. We shall see if you will be granted an audience.”

 

Shaw nodded. She watched as the girl announced herself and then heard a feminine voice call out for her to enter the tent. The girl shot them one last look over her shoulder and then disappeared from view.

 

“So this is fun,” Reese grumbled. Carter shushed him. There were still several guards with them and more warriors were emerging from the tents. The message was clear. Keep it cool.

 

Shaw looked around the clearing. The fire was to one side. Guards behind them. Tents in front. There would be only one direction to run should they need to and she had a feeling it wasn’t nearly as empty as it appeared. Seemed they had no choice but to play nice. Though she did move her hand closer to where the other explosive Daizo had given her was strapped to her belt.

 

“Over there,” Carter whispered to her. She nodded to the far side of the clearing. Shaw turned her head and squinted past the flames of the fire. She let out a chuckle when she locked her eyes on what had garnered Carter’s attention.

 

Hersh was tied to a large oak. He looked decidedly worse for wear, bleeding from wounds on his forehead and left arm. His right eye was swollen shut as well. Shaw noticed that there was a cloth gag in his mouth. He’d never looked better.

 

“That him?” Reese asked. Shaw nodded.

 

“Looks like someone didn’t ask to talk as nicely as we did,” Carter quipped.

 

Hersh, having noticed their approach yelled something through the gag, in attempt to draw them over to him. Shaw gave him a two fingered salute just to fuck with him. Of course they didn’t stray from their assigned spot. He cried out again to no avail. Having realized that they weren’t exactly there to free him, Hersh slumped against his bonds. Shaw smirked at the sight.

 

Served the treacherous bastard right.

 

She heard movement from the tent. Shaw turned her head. The flap waved and then the girl stepped outside again. She nodded to Shaw and then moved to join the guards standing behind them.

 

The woman who stepped out of the tent a moment later wasn’t exactly what Shaw was expecting. Not the fact that she was a woman. The only qualifications for leadership the people favored was how much ass an individual could kick at any given moment in time. Since in Shaw’s case that number was quite large, she didn’t tend to underestimate anyone the Tree People deemed fit to lead, no matter what they looked like. She herself was a prime example of looks being deceiving.

 

No she was surprised given the fact that the woman standing before her was someone of rank. Shaw had never had to deal with the General personally, but she had seen the woman when she was part of an envoy sent to the capitol a few years back. There were very few in the clans that held more power among their kin than this woman. What the hell was she doing way out here?

 

The General pursed her lips as she examined them. She was lean, all wiry muscle. Beautiful, in that otherworldly way so many of the Tree-women were. Her honey-colored hair was pulled back from her face by a series of small braids. Dark kohl ringed each of her eyes. The long, fur lined, leather coat she wore was equally as dark. From what Shaw could tell, she was also carrying enough blades to make even Root jealous.

 

Shaw heard Carter breathe a sigh of relief beside her. She must have recognized the woman as well. They watched the General carefully as she circled them like a mountain cat. In an exchange such as this, they knew better than to speak first.

 

“I thought your King honored our claim to these lands.”

 

“He did,” Carter replied. “Does. Pardon me,” She cleared her throat. She was tangled in rare instance of being taken off guard. She clearly hadn’t expected the conversation to open on that topic. “King Harold recognizes your clan’s sovereign right to this area.”

 

“Then why has he sent his top agents here?” She tapped the Thornhill crest emblazoned on Carter’s shield with her free hand. The other was wrapped around the hilt of her sword. “Yes, I remember you High Steward. What must your king be seeking to send you all this way?”

 

“King Harold means no offence; I assure you…” Carter began to explain.

 

“Whether he’s committed an offence by sending you here remains to be seen.”

 

“He didn’t send us exactly. More like our task brought us here.”

 

“And what exactly is that task?”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes. This whole question and answer session was wasting time better spent tracking Root. “I need to speak with your prisoner.” It was a breach in protocol given that Carter had opened the conversation for their side. In fact, she gaped at Shaw like she had sprouted another head.

 

“And why should I allow that?” The General hooked her thumb over her shoulder to point at Hersh. “He was trespassing on our land, near sacred grounds.” She clicked her tongue, “Just as you are now doing.”

 

“Because my name is Sameen Saw.”

 

“Dragon Slayer.” The woman smiled, “Interesting.” She nodded towards Hersh, “If this one has wronged you somehow, it would be an honor twice over to kill him.”

 

“Look I don’t care what you do with him once I’m done, but I need answers first.”

 

That earned Shaw a raised eyebrow. “About?”

 

Shaw knew she could take one of two paths here. Lie about why they were out here and risk having to deal with some pissed off Tree People later, or follow the old adage of the enemy of her enemy being her friend and tell the truth, trusting that these people didn’t want any trouble. She let out a breath. “He helped kidnap someone very important. We believe she escaped him but we don’t know where she went exactly.”

 

The General looked Shaw up and down. She tensed her jaw for a moment seemingly coming to a decision of her own. “A patrol saw a woman crossing into our lands on the way to the Wailing Caverns a few hours ago. A rider was sent to my camp, as the caverns are sacred and to be protected. When I returned here with my men, we found him. I’m told he was traveling on the road with a woman at first.” Shaw pursed her lips. The second woman must have been Control.

 

“They split up back at the crossroads. She continued south while he took the western fork and eventually crossed onto our land.”

 

“Probably tracking Root,” Carter noted aloud.

 

The General nodded, “He did seem to be following our other visitor. We prevented him from reaching her.”

 

“You have my thanks for that,” Shaw grudgingly replied. “The woman he was following, she’s my…” She cleared her throat, “Our friend.”

 

“Your friend is wounded…”

 

“Which is why we need to reach her,” Reese cut in. Shaw glared at him. She was going to get to that.

 

“You are not of the people,” The General shook her head. “I cannot allow you to enter the caves.”

 

“If it’s off limits to outsiders then how did Root get in?” He argued.

 

She sneered at him, “The one you seek is chosen. We would not assume to interfere with her task.” She cocked an eyebrow at Shaw, “Your subordinate would do well to learn to mind his tongue before someone decides to cut it out.”

 

Had circumstances been different, Shaw would have guffawed at the absurdity of anyone accusing John Reese of talking too much. Things being as they were however, “Worry less about him and more about what I’m going to do if you don’t let me go get my friend.”

 

“Your friend walks with the spirits.”

 

“Which means what exactly?” Carter asked with a frown. Shaw pursed her lips. Again with the interruptions.

 

“It means many things. Most importantly that while she may have safe passage into the caverns, we cannot follow.”

 

“Lady, I’m going to go get Root. I don’t care if she’s running around with every ghost in Old Thornhill. Even if I have to go through you and every single one of your kin this side of the river.”

 

The General nodded. “I believe you would.” She pointed towards a path leading into the wood on the opposite side of the camp, “Go then. That trail leads to the mouth of the caves.” She gestured towards the fire. “Your companions may share our camp while they await your return.”

 

“Thanks,” Shaw dipped her head. She had barely taken half a step in the direction of the caves when Reese spoke up.

 

“We go where she does,” He grumbled. He went to stand beside Shaw.

 

The General drew her sword before any of them could move. She pointed it at the space between his breastplate and his throat. With only a slight lunge she could take his head from his shoulders. “Only the marked may pass.”

 

Carter, who was still standing near Shaw due to their original formation, leaned in close to whisper into her ear, “Marked? What is she talking about?”

 

“No clue,” She replied, her voice equally hushed. All Shaw cared about was the fact that it somehow meant that she could go in after Root. She turned around and placed a hand on Reese’s arm forcibly moving him back from the blade. “You’re wasting time that Root might not have. I’ll be fine.” She turned to the General, “I’m assuming you won’t stab my friends while I’m gone?”

 

“As long as he follows orders.”

 

“He’s great at that,” Shaw drawled. She turned to give Reese a look that screamed he’d be good at it or else. Reese tensed his jaw but nodded his assent. He held up his hands in surrender.

 

“Very well,” The General sheathed her sword.

 

Once again Shaw nodded her thanks, “Let me just have a word with them for a moment and then I’ll be on my way.”

 

“Perhaps you’d like to collect some of your gear from your horses?” At Shaw’s nod, the General waved to one of the guards. “Show them and then return here.”

 

The man nodded. Then he turned to Shaw, “If you would follow me?” He led them across the clearing and past where Hersh was tied. They didn’t have to travel far to reach the makeshift corral where the horses were kept.  Shaw could still clearly see the Tree People gathering around the fire. Likely having a strategy meeting of their own. “Do you require anything else?”

 

“No thank you,” Carter answered for the group. Shaw watched as the man turned and made his way back to the rest of his people.

 

“Well, this keeps getting weirder,” Carter sighed bringing Shaw’s attention back to her.

 

“Could be worse,” She shrugged.

 

“Could also be better,” Reese argued. “I still don’t like you going off alone.”

 

“I’m a big girl. I can handle myself.”

 

“I know that.” He shook his head, “But something about all this doesn’t smell right.”

 

It wasn’t like Shaw was going to argue about that. She couldn’t think of any good reason for the General to be this far away from the interior of the people’s territory. Let alone why Root would wander all the way out here. They needed answers. Shaw knew she’d get plenty once she found Root but, “Make nice, see if they’ll let you talk to Hersh.”

 

“You think he’ll tell us anything about Control?”

 

“If he thinks you can get him out of here alive, he may see talking to you as the lesser of two evils.” Hersh was a lot of things but stupid wasn’t one of them. He’d know that he was in it up to his neck right now and that there was no way he was escaping this many warriors on his own. Shaw shrugged, “I’m sure Root will tell us what we need to know once I’ve found her, but if he has anything extra to add…”

 

“We’ll get it out of him,” Reese nodded. Shaw could tell by the look in his eyes that having an actual task to perform was helping him to be more at ease with Shaw striking out on her own.

 

Shaw nodded towards the group sitting around the campfire. The General was clearly giving out assignments, given her pacing and jabbing hand motions. “Maybe try and find out what she’s doing out here as well?” It was too weird of a coincidence.

 

Carter clicked her tongue. “That one doesn’t seem very chatty, Shaw.”

 

“Yes, but you’re a people person,” She grinned at her. “Work your magic.”

 

“I think I’d need actual magic to pull that off,” Carter grumbled, “Maybe a unicorn or two…”

 

After that, they took a few moments to redistribute some of their gear. Carter handed off a few bandages and her water skin. “I’m sure they’ll spare me a cup while we wait,” She shrugged when Shaw tried to hand it back.

 

Reese gave her an extra knife and some of his trail rations. “I won’t eat anything they try to give me, but I also don’t eat as much as you do.”

 

Shaw tied everything into a bundle using a spare bit of cloth they alleviated from one of the tents and lashed it to her sword belt. “Don’t get yourselves killed,” She told them in lieu of a goodbye.

 

Carter snorted and looked over at Reese, “Shouldn’t we be telling her that?”

 

“I think the lack of sleep is making Shaw slow,” He drolly replied.

 

Shaw shook her head as she walked away. Idiots. She smirked at Hersh as she passed him. He glared back at her but the effect was dampened by all the bruises and the gag.

 

The girl from before stopped her as she reached the bonfire, and handed her a torch. One of the orders the General had been barking out earlier she guessed. “For the caverns,” The girl elaborated. Shaw accepted it with a nod.

 

Seemed like all she needed was Bear and she could be on her way. If visibility was low, Bear’s sense of smell might be the difference between finding Root or getting herself trapped underground. She scanned the area for the wolf. He had been by Reese’s side when they met with the General earlier. She decided to circle the tents.

 

Shaw found Bear waiting on the edge of the camp, the side facing the path to the caverns. He wasn’t alone. “General,” Shaw nodded as she came to stand just behind them. “I see you’ve met Bear.” She was crouched beside him stroking his flank. Bear was soaking up the attention. Traitor.

 

“Wolves recognize wolves,” She replied as if reading her thoughts. She stood up. “Your conversations are finished then?”

 

“They’ll play nice,” Shaw answered. “I trust you and your people will do the same.”

 

“I’m not in the habit of going back on my word,” She snarled in offense.

 

Shaw held up a hand. “Wasn’t saying that. I just know John can be an acquired taste.” Nothing like Root, or Shaw herself for that matter, but Reese was known to rub people the wrong way when he was in a mood. Traipsing across the kingdom to hunt down assassins, without getting to punch anyone, qualified as a mood. Shaw understood because she had plenty of frustrations to work out as well.

 

The General waved the comment off, “Say nothing more. This place, it tries my patience, frays my temper like a worn bridle.”

 

“About that,” Shaw began. “Anything I should know about these caves?”

 

“They call them the Wailing Caverns for its said that the souls of those lost within them cry out to the living. Should they be successful in trapping another within them to take their place, the caverns shall release them into the afterlife.”

 

“Charming.” Shaw shook her head. Root couldn’t have strolled off into a nice orchard? Or a haunted ale house? “You people worship the weirdest shit.” Temples that can make demon bears. Caves that can trap souls. Nothing but fun times.

 

The General took no offense to her statement. “We revere them because they were once the home of one of the old gods. The cursed souls came after.”

 

“You realize that fact doesn’t make your little tale any less creepy?”

 

Her question was ignored. “In the caves you may see things that aren’t there. Remain focused on your friend. Do not fall to panic.”

 

“We just met, but trust me, panic isn’t something I do.”

 

“I wish you luck then.” The General bent down to pick up something at her feet. When she stood upright again she held out a worn leather satchel. Shaw hadn’t noticed it before as her focus had been on Bear. When Shaw didn’t immediately accept it, she gave it a little shake. “What supplies we could scrape together for healing purposes, plus a few extras for comfort.”

 

Shaw’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

 

“As I said before, your friend is one of the chosen. If you are here to render her aid, then it is my duty to assist you.”

 

Wait what? Shaw ground her teeth together. “What the hell was that show when we got here about then?”

 

“Some relics have been stolen recently. We’ve been watching all the roads in and out of our lands to discover the culprits. I had to determine your intentions.” She smirked, “And I didn’t like the looks of your man-servant.”

 

Shaw snorted. She could picture the look in Reese’s eyes when the General referred to him as her man-servant to his face. Threatening to cut out his tongue had been hilarious enough. Carter was in for a treat. Shaw grabbed the bag and slung it over her shoulder.

 

The General held out her forearm. Shaw took it in a firm grasp. “Thank you, General.”

 

“My name is Anya,” She replied as she released Shaw’s arm. “I have the feeling I’ll be making your acquaintance again.” She dipped her head, “Besides, you’ve more than earned the courtesy, Dragon Slayer.”

 

“No offense but I don’t plan on making a habit of visiting.”

 

“The world is wide, with many wonders, Sameen Shaw.” Anya tilted her head, “And yet many paths cross and then cross over again.”

 

“Do they make you people practice talking like that?”

 

Anya smirked, “Only those of us that must deal with you drooling savages.” She turned to walk back towards the center of camp. “I’ll wait to kill the Catalyst until you return with your lover.”

 

Son of a bitch. Shaw shook her head. She made a mental note never to leave Root and that one alone together. They’d get into far too much trouble.

 

She looked down at Bear, “Let’s go get Root back.”


	7. Got me begging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why does Root make everything more complicated than it needs to be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this post is a little late. I found myself writing and then rewriting large sections of this chapter. Still not feeling 100% fabulous about it, but I think I'm at the point of diminishing returns when it comes to dialogue tweaks. As we're just about to the end of this one I don't want to drag parts out without reason.
> 
> Also got asked last chapter about if certain characters might appear in this story. Not specifically in this one, like I said we're almost wrapped up here. But in the universe overall? I may have an idea or two. I will say though that these tales are about Root and Shaw. They're the focus. Characters from other universes can and will show up because I like them and find them fun (Or because I like making inside jokes about Paige Turco's other roles. Believe me, I've got an idea for an aside about giant turtles I've been saving!). But the stories wont be about them. Part of the reason a certain someone wasn't tagged. I don't want to advertise for something these stories aren't. 
> 
> Which also means, yes there is more of this verse to come. I still have plans. Still have little seeds planted that haven't sprouted quite yet. I'll keep playing in this sandbox as long as it's fun for me to keep going and you guys want to keep reading.

 

A few snowflakes managed to make their way through the thick canopy over head to fall around Shaw’s face as she and Bear made their way down the path to the caverns. What little light there was, was steadily fading. Shaw twirled the torch Anya’s young warrior had given her. If they had to walk much further she’d have to stop for a moment to light it.

 

For now, the merge light was just enough to make out the area a few feet in front of them. Her steps crunched against the frozen ground. Bear trot a little ahead of her, scouting the way. He’d circle back behind occasionally and then dart forward again.

 

“At least you’re having a good time,” She huffed. Bear yipped in reply. “No offense, Handsome.” She knew Bear had felt the urgency to find Root in his own way. After all the wolf had been part of Root’s life far longer than Shaw.

 

He brushed against her leg as if accepting her apology. “Can’t be too far now,” She noted. They’d been walking for a while. Anya had said the caves weren’t far from camp. “Of course we’re using a stranger’s definition of not far.” With Tree People being nomadic in general, not far could be several leagues too damn far for Shaw’s tastes.

 

Fifteen minutes later, she noticed that there was a break in the trees up ahead. Shaw increased her pace. Bear, who had been behind her again yipped and darted forward. She had to dodge the flying bits of snow he kicked up in his wake. She couldn’t really fault Bear for the enthusiasm. Knowing that they were close made her feel lighter. The weight she had been carrying since she’d left Root by the stables easing slightly at the thought they’d find her soon.

 

She broke into a run. She saw Bear skid to a stop. That was a little odd. Shaw slid her free hand to the hilt of one of her knives just in case. As she closed the remaining distance however, the reason for Bear’s actions began to make sense.

 

The wolf turned to look back at her as she broke from the tree line and skidded to a stop of her own. “This wasn’t what I imagined.”

 

It looked as if a giant fist had smashed into the ground leaving a massive dent behind to remind everyone who was boss around these parts. The crater they were now perched on the edge of, rivaled the royal quarry in size. Shaw could make out the entrances to several caves dotted around the lower portion of the pit. “Crap.” She had been expecting something more along the lines of a mountain or a hill. Something less complicated to get to, with one entrance to the caves at the bottom of it. Not this.

 

She looked down at her companion. “We really need to have a conversation with Root about her bad ideas.” Bear woofed. “Glad we agree.” Shaw looked over the side. The ground not far from where they stood sloped down into the pit with a much less severe incline than what she could see across the way. Probably why the path led to this side.

 

As Shaw stood overlooking the pit the wind began to pick up. The few hairs that had managed to worm their way from the leather strap she had tied her hair back with whipped the side of her face. She heard a whistling sound and then howling. She looked down at Bear again. He wasn’t the source of the noise. It took her a moment to realize the sound was coming from the caves.

 

Wailing Caverns indeed.

 

Shaw shook her head. “Root just has to make everything ten times more complicated than it needs to be.” She began to make her way down the slope and into the crater. Bear watched her go for a bit before bounding down the trail behind her.  

 

Shaw realized their next issue when she reached the bottom. The ground here was flat and smooth. The snow left a few icy patches but nothing too hard to avoid. She was able to quickly cross the area. The problem lay with the caverns themselves. In that there were apparently a lot of them. Shaw counted seven separate entrances. Who knows how many more tunnels would be below. And much like at the trading post, the snowfall had obliterated any tracks Root may have left going in.

 

“Which way?”

 

Bear looked up at her and yipped again. Then he lowered his head until his muzzle was practically scraping the ground. He began to circle the area, sniffing everything as he went. Before long his ears pricked up. He looked at Shaw again and barked.

 

“You find our girl?”

 

Bear barked again and scrambled over to one of the entrances. Shaw followed. With nothing else to go on, it was as good of a place to begin as any. “Bear, heel,” She called when they were just inside. She walked over to a crack in the cave wall and jammed the end of the torch inside of it. Then she fumbled around on her belt for her flint. Once she had it in hand, she drew one of her knives and struck it against the stone until she created enough sparks to set the torch alight.

 

She tucked the flint back into its pouch. “One more thing before we dive in,” She told Bear. Shaw took the knife and jabbed it into the rock repeatedly until a bit of the stone began to flake away. She was ruining the blade, but figured the sacrifice was worth it to keep her from going in circles should this not be the right way and they needed to double back and try another entrance.

 

Also if she screwed this up and died down here they’d know which way to go to start looking for her body.

 

A few more strikes and Shaw was finally satisfied that the marker wouldn’t be missed by anyone. She tucked the now blunted blade back into her belt. Then she retrieved the torch. “All right, Bear let’s go meet the natives.”

 

Things were quiet once they were out of sight of the entrance to the caverns. Shaw snorted to herself, “All that wailing was just the wind.” People could get so worked up about things having some sort of twisted origin, only to miss the simplest explanations for them. The tap of her boots against the stone floor, punctuated by the occasional huff from Bear, was the only sound as they walked further into the darkness.

 

She wondered how far down Root had managed to wander. Given the fact that she was injured, Shaw’s first guess would be not that far. Then again if Root was really that hurt then she shouldn’t have been able to get all the way out here on her own. “Never makes anything easy,” Shaw grumbled.

 

Bear looked up at her and whimpered. “Everything’s fine,” She reassured him.

 

They had been walking for about fifteen minutes when they stumbled upon their first sign that they weren’t the only ones to travel this path. Shaw had stopped for a moment at the junction between two tunnels. Her efforts to detect any sign that Root had passed through either weren’t going so well. She looked down to see if Bear favored one side or the other but he wasn’t beside her. “Bear?” She called out.

 

There was a bark from the pathway on her right. She shook her head. Must have gone down that way when her back was turned. She quickly made her way down the tunnel. “You couldn’t have tugged me along?” She grumbled.

 

Bear barked again. “Little late, Handsome.” Shaw turned a corner and found Bear. He had found someone too. Just not who they were looking for.

 

Shaw knelt down next to the wolf. “I guess this guy didn’t get the same warning we did, huh?” They were facing what was essentially a mummified corpse. It was a man as far as Shaw could tell. The uniform he was wearing was blood stained and torn in several places, but it was clearly that of a Decima foot soldier.

 

She couldn’t tell by looking how long the body had been here. The metal of the armor showed almost no signs of age. The war axe still clutched in a bony hand was of a contemporary design. But the bits of leathery skin that were barely holding the body together looked as if the corpse had been here for decades. A recent death should leave remains that were more…gooey, for lack of a better term.

 

What Shaw did know was that the man had died violently. The skull was facing the wrong way. It seemed this guy had wandered down here and had gotten his neck snapped somehow. “Funny, the last time I was in a random underground labyrinth, I found another one of you Decima boys.” Shaw hoped she could skip the demon bears this go round. She also wondered if there were more Decima soldiers down here. Or if this guy was the unlucky one of the bunch.

 

The remains were probably not tied to Root being here. Anya and her people would have noticed a troop of Decima soldiers tromping about. They had captured Hersh after all, and he was far less conspicuous. But it still didn’t sit well with Shaw. “Everytime I turn around I find one of Greer’s men where they shouldn’t be.”

 

She stood up. Shaw would definitely be filling Reese and Carter in on this discovery. But she had other things to worry about at the moment. “Come on Bear. We might as well see where this tunnel leads. We can always double back.”

 

The tunnel sloped downward after a few feet. They traveled along for another five minutes until it opened up into a larger cavern. Shaw could make out the entrances of four more tunnels spread out along the walls. “Great.” Which way now? She looked down at Bear. “Time to get to work.” He whimpered. “What?” Bear began to paw at the stone floor.

 

She was about to crouch down and try to soothe him when she heard something strange. Was that? Shaw cocked her head to the side. Seagulls? This far inland? And underground for that matter? She stilled. The sound was gulls and the crash of waves. And it was getting louder.

 

Bear started to growl. “Yeah, not exactly my kind of party either, Handsome.”

 

Shaw drew her sword. It probably wouldn’t do her any good against spirits, but damned if she was going to do this, whatever it was, unarmed. There was a gust of wind. The torch flickered and sputtered, but remained lit. Bear dashed to the left, his growling growing louder.

 

“What is it? What do you see?” Shaw’s eyes darted around the cave. Her vision in the dim cavern not nearly as good as the wolf’s. She tried to follow Bear’s sight line all the same, squinting into the dark tunnel in front of them. And then she saw it.

 

A white light roughly the size of Shaw’s fist was floating about six feet above the ground. It bobbed and weaved in the air. It pulsed brighter and dimed with the movement. The sound of waves grew in volume as it moved closer.

 

It came within a few feet of them and hovered. Shaw thought she could smell salt in the air now. The sound of the waves reminded her of the days before the guild, before she had lost her father. She felt warm. She took a half step forward.

 

Bear rammed into her shins knocking her back. She shook her head. Shaw felt a bit fuzzy, like she had gone too far into her cups at the tavern. But she had been fine a moment ago. What the hell was going on?

 

The light flashed and then shot off down one of the branching tunnels like an arrow. Bear snarled. “Heel,” Shaw ordered before he could run off after it.

 

Clearly, there was some truth to the story Anya had told her about this place. It didn’t matter though. She was getting Root out of here no matter who or what she had to go through to find her. “Look whatever you are. You’re not going to get either of us to stick around. So toddle along and wait for the next sucker to come knocking. No souls are getting traded in today.”

 

The sound of the waves stopped. Shaw grinned down at Bear. That was easy. You just had to let the spirits know who was boss. “Honestly, that’s what’s got Anya and her people spooked?” She thought that tree people were made of sterner stuff.

 

Unfortunately, Shaw was as good with exorcisms as she was with small talk. The wind began to howl again. The torch’s flame whipped around in the gale coming dangerously close to extinguishing. The white light returned and this time it was joined by others. Red, yellow, orange, they varied in dimension from the size of a coin to that of her skull, but each pulsed in increasingly rapid patterns. And there were a lot of the little buggers.

 

Bear growled and snapped his jaws.

 

“Yeah, okay so I managed to piss them off.” Shaw raised her sword. She could see more of the things swarming in her peripheral vision. They’d be completely surrounded soon. “Remind me to kick Root’s ass for this one.” If they made it out of this one, and if these weird lights hadn’t gotten her too that is.

 

The lights kept coming closer. Shaw stepped in front of Bear. Maybe he could make a break for it and still get help for Root while she held these things off. Surely, Anya would unclench about the whole “outsiders shall not pass” thing if he returned to camp without her.

 

The lights pressed closer. Shaw slid back a step. She nudged Bear towards the tunnel they had originally come out of. The first line of lights was within arm’s reach of them now. The air felt heavy and cold. Shaw slashed out at the nearest one with her sword but the red light barely flickered as the blade traveled through it.

 

It was beginning to feel like something was pressing down on her shoulders. She slid back another half step. She could feel Bear against the back of her calf. He was crawling practically on his belly; his body was so low to the ground. They moved backwards in unison but this time didn’t gain any distance on the lights. It was like walking through tar.

 

One of the lights touched her hand. It felt as if she had shoved it into a glacier. She jerked her hand towards her chest, nearly dropping her sword. She chanced a glance, her knuckles were cracked and bleeding. “Not good.”

 

“Stop!” A voice suddenly boomed. The lights dimmed and then vanished.

 

Shaw spun around but couldn’t see anyone else. “Who’s there?”

 

“Can you hear me?” It was a peculiar sounding voice even at a more normal volume. Raspy, feminine but with an underlying tone that was more of a growl than anything a human throat should be able to make. It felt like ants crawling over Shaw’s skin.

 

The way sound bounced off the cave walls it was difficult to determine exactly where the voice was coming from. “Who’s asking?”

 

“Shaw.” The voice sounded almost happy.

 

She sucked in a breath. It knew her name? “So this just keeps getting weirder,” Shaw muttered. Bear huffed in agreement. She shook her head. She’d worry about the strangeness of the whole thing after she found Root. Shaw called out, “I won’t ask again.” Not that she knew what she’d do instead of asking if the voice proved uncooperative. “Who’s talking?”

 

“A friend.” This time the voice definitely sounded like it was coming from the tunnel to her far right.

 

“No friend of mine sounds like you.” Maybe it wasn’t the best idea but Shaw moved in that direction. She didn’t feel like sticking around to see if the lights came back. And unlike earlier Bear remained somewhat relaxed as they moved forward. She took it as a sign that whatever this voice was, it wasn’t an immediate threat.

 

“How do you know?” The voice replied, “This is the first time you’ve heard me speak.”

 

Shaw’s foot slipped on a bit of loose gravel. She briefly stumbled but quickly recovered to ask, “If that’s true, then how could we be friends?”

 

“Because Root generally does the talking for me.”

 

“You’re her,” Shaw replied. She walks with the spirits… Once home of an old god... “The dragon. Root’s god.”

 

“Yes, and I am so very glad that you’ve come.”

 

That was the voice that whispered sweet nothings in Root’s ear at all hours? Yikes. No wonder she was a little touched. Hearing that since you were a kid would turn anyone mad. The entire kingdom was fortunate it hadn’t made Root worse. Speaking of, “Where is she?”

 

“Follow the sound of my voice.”

 

Shaw sheathed her sword. “Why isn’t Root doing the talking?” It was unlike her to be so silent. Shaw didn’t like it one bit. She should have been propositioned at least three times by this point in the conversation. She knew Root had to be wounded when she saw set up in the cellar, Anya had even confirmed it, but this felt different. Something was off.

 

“She’s sleeping.”

 

Shaw scowled, “In here? Alone?” Of all the stupid…

 

“She is safe. I am watching. You are both safe here.”

 

“Yeah, well forgive me for blaspheming or whatever, but you watching wasn’t a whole lot of help when a bunch of catalysts came knocking the other night.” Damn thing seemed to go blind at the most inopportune moments if you asked Shaw.

 

“They tricked me. I knew there was a danger but not what it entailed. I could see enough of what came after to warn Harold, but not the attack itself. They used Samaritan’s ashes to cloud my sight.”

 

That would explain it. When he was alive, Samaritan had given Her one hell of a blind spot. There was still one thing nagging at Shaw though, “How did Control figure that one out?”

 

“She had help from outside of the guild.”

 

Shaw could guess who. “Greer.” Always sticking his bony fingers where they didn’t belong. One day he was going to pay for each and every headache he’d given Shaw over the years.

 

“Undoubtedly,” The dragon replied. “It’s a worry for another time, however.”

 

“Agreed.” Root was the priority. Greer’s time was coming, but today Shaw had other things to worry about. “The runes, in the cellar, that was you?” She asked to keep Her talking.

 

“They were hurting Root. I knew you were coming but they kept hurting her, and you would not have made it in time. So I taught her.”

 

Shaw nodded to herself. She had figured as much. “Is Root?”

 

“She is gravely injured.” The voice paused, “But you can help her now.”

 

“Damn right,” Shaw grumbled. She tilted her head. “Is that running water I hear?” If so she’d have to be extra careful where she stepped. The last thing she needed was to slip and go ass over tea kettle into a spring and crack her head open when Root was counting on her.

 

“The hot springs here have healing properties. It’s why so many risk their lives venturing into the caverns. I believe they will stave off any infection.”

 

“You believe? I thought you knew everything.”

 

“Unfortunately not.” The dragon took a breath. Which struck Shaw as odd. Did incorporeal beings need to breathe? “There are limits to even my understanding. Though they are few and far between.”

 

“Sucks we managed to bump into a gap.”

 

“You have a gift for understatement.”

 

Great a lippy dragon god. Just what Shaw did not need on top of everything else today. “Does Root get the attitude from you, or you from her?”

 

“You can’t lie to me Shaw. I know you rather enjoy Root’s temperament.”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes, “You didn’t answer the question.”

 

“I’ll tell you anything you’d like. But is that really what you wish to know?”

 

“Whatever keeps you talking,” She grumbled. Shaw could see a faint glow up ahead. Unlike the orbs from earlier, this light was steady. “Guess I’m getting close,” She thought aloud. Soon the tunnel she was in opened out into an even larger cavern.

 

Root was sitting across from where she entered the area in a bubbling pool of water. The glow Shaw had noticed moments ago was actually coming from the water in the pool. It rose to just about Root’s chest. Her head was slumped against the cave wall. “Here.” Her mouth moved but it wasn’t her voice that reached Shaw’s ears.

 

“What the hell?” Shaw hissed, rushing forward. Bear followed right on her heels. Shaw dropped the torch when she reached the edge of the pool. It sputtered for an instant but remained burning. She set the pack with her supplies and her sword down with a bit more care not far from it. Then she removed her belt and kicked off her boots. “Stay,” She ordered Bear. Once she was certain he was going to comply with her directive, she slipped into the pool.

 

The water was warm. Her own cuts and scrapes began to sting as it soaked through her clothes. She fell to her knees in front of Root. The water rushed up to her neck but she didn’t care. Shaw began running her hands gently over her body, checking Root for injuries.

 

There was a wound to her arm looked like it had been properly tended to. Her knuckles were bruised. Shaw had to smirk at that sight, remembering the set up from the cellar. She couldn’t help but want the damage to have been caused by Root giving Control a little of her own back. “Hope you knocked that bitch out flat.”

 

Root and the dragon remained silent on that front. Shaw carefully lifted her shirt, it was the same one she had pulled on in their bedroom back at the manor. Though the blue was stained with several patches of dried blood now. Shaw shook her head and refocused. There was some bruising but it didn’t look like they had done any lasting damage to Root’s ribs.

 

She continued moving up as she examined Root’s body. Some bruising on her jaw. A gash along her cheekbone that must have bled terribly. Shaw was by far the most concerned by the bandage wrapped around Root’s head and the dried blood on the right side of her neck. “What did they do to her?”

 

“The pain was too much. She couldn’t take any more. Her heart…” The voice trailed off for a moment. Root’s typically expressive face was blank. She blinked. Shaw noted that her eyes were clouded over, like a fog shrouding the real Root from view. “I took her place. Gave her strength. Then I brought her here to keep her safe. I knew they could not follow.”

 

It was unnerving to watch Root’s lips move and hear that inhuman voice pour out from between them. Shaw hated the sight, “Stop it.”

 

“I knew you would come. I tried to tell her you would. She feared, doubted… Yet she fought so hard. You would have been proud. But the pain. I couldn’t leave her out there alone…”

 

“Stop talking,” Shaw snapped. Bear whimpered in agreement behind her. She had almost forgotten he was even there with all this weirdness. “Bring her back.”

 

“Shaw.”

 

“You can right?” There would be hell to pay if the answer was no. She swallowed, “You can bring Root back?”

 

“Of course.”

 

Shaw released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Then do it.”

 

“Thank you for caring for her.” The voice whispered as Root’s eyes slipped closed.

 

Nothing happened immediately. Shaw gently gathered Root into her arms and then twisted her body around so that she could sit on the stone ledge Root’s body had previously occupied. She needed to touch her. Needed to feel her; to know that she was still solid and breathing under her hands if Shaw was going to be anything other than angry that they had ended up here. Root’s back to her chest, Shaw craned her neck to watch her face for any sign that she was waking up.

 

“Come back,” She whispered.

 

Root remained still.

 

“I’m not doing this with you,” Shaw muttered. Her grip on Root tightened. “I didn’t come all this way for you to just be gone.”

 

Root’s lips twitched. “There you are,” Shaw breathed. Her entire focus narrowed to the small tics of Root’s face that signaled she was coming back to awareness. When she was sure that she was about to wake up, Shaw grumbled, “Wake up before I decide to drown you for all my trouble.”

 

“You went to an awful lot of trouble just to share a bath,” Root groaned, refusing to open her eyes. She rubbed her left cheek against Shaw’s shoulder. Then frowned, “And you’re not even naked.”

 

“Idiot,” Shaw huffed. Of course the first thing out of her mouth would be a stupid line. Thank god.

 

“Sameen,” Root smiled when she opened her eyes. They were back to their normal deep brown. “You came to look for me?”

 

“Don’t be stupid,” She scowled. Did Root honestly think she wouldn’t? What had that dragon been telling her? “Of course I did.”

 

“I’m touched,” Root licked her lips. “Gen?”

 

“Is a damn sight better than you are.” Shaw shook her head. She tightened her hold, “You’re a freaking mess.”

 

“Not entirely my fault you know,” Root groaned as Shaw shifted them so that she was cradling her sideways across her lap so she didn’t have to put so much strain on her neck to see her. “Wait,” She smiled, “Are you cuddling me right now? You hate cuddling.”

 

“It’s freezing out and you’re in an undershirt sitting in a puddle of water. I’m sharing body heat.”

 

“I’m fairly certain this is a hot spring not a puddle.” She looked Shaw up and down, “And if it’s freezing then where is your cloak?”

 

“Shut up, Root.” Woman knew good and well she didn’t get cold. Wasn’t like Root was dressed for the weather either, and she shivered at the slightest breeze. Shaw was only practicing good survival skills.

 

“How long have I been here?” Root asked after only a few minutes of blissful silence. “Where is here?”

 

“She didn’t tell you?”

 

“I don’t recall if she did.” Root frowned. “I remember leaving the trading post. I’m assuming you know where I’m talking about?”

 

“Yeah, found and searched the place this afternoon.”

 

“So you know?” Root sounded wary.

 

“I do,” Shaw nodded. “From the looks of things you did what you needed to do to get out of there. I get that, even if the others might not.” Finding Root alive had helped her opinion on the matter immensely. But she understood why Root wouldn’t want anyone else to know that she was directly responsible for killing all those men.

 

“Thank you, Sameen.”

 

“If you don’t want anyone to know exactly what happened, I’ll back you. I blew the place up so it’s not like there’s anything left for anyone to find that would contradict any story you wanted to tell.”

 

“You’re the best,” Root sighed. “They attacked our home. Gen was hurt. And Control wasn’t going to just let me go with a pat on the head once she decided I wasn’t going to tell her what she wanted to know.” Shaw squeezed her hips. “I’m not ashamed of what I did but…” Root trailed off.

 

“But your Uncle tends to be a bit hypocritical about what it takes to clean up his kingdom’s messes?” Shaw finished for her.

 

“Technically blood magic is banned in four of the five kingdoms and most of the lower provinces.”

 

“We’re going to be worried about what’s strictly legal when we go out on jobs now? Because I don’t think that’s going to work for me.”

 

Root snorted, “No. Not really.”

 

“Planning on making a habit of it?”

 

“I’d rather not.” Root shifted on Shaw’s lap. “Moral quandaries aside, it’s not an easy practice on the body.”

 

“Then we’ll figure out a cover story.” Shaw wasn’t going to fault Root for surviving. And she wasn’t going to allow anyone else to do it either. “How did you end up here?”

 

“I’m not sure.” Root’s face scrunched up in confusion. “I took a vial of the widow’s march on my way out. I followed the road south for a while. I fell. I think the potion had worn off, and then next thing I knew you were threatening to drown me.”

 

“So you don’t remember your imaginary friend playing puppet show?” She wasn’t sure how that was possible. Shaw knew she wasn’t likely to ever forget it.

 

Root stiffened. “How do you know about that?”

 

“I saw it.”

 

“How? When?”

 

“Just now.” Though why did Shaw suddenly get the feeling that it wasn’t the first time it had happened. “It’s how you got here apparently,” She began to rub small circles on Root’s thigh with her fingertips. “And here is some system of haunted Tree People caves.”

 

“She brought me to the Wailing Caverns?”

 

Shaw leaned her head back and groaned. “Of course you’ve heard of them.”

 

“You hadn’t?”

 

She tilted her head to glare at her, “Not from your odd little kingdom, remember?”

 

“I honestly forget sometimes,” Root sighed. She relaxed against Shaw’s chest like they really were just taking a bath together. Honestly, Shaw thought she was taking this whole waking up in a random cave after her kidnapping thing oddly well. “I feel like you’ve been here forever.”

 

“Sap,” Shaw rolled her eyes. “Can you sit up by yourself without drowning?”

 

“I thought you wanted to drown me?” Root teased.

 

Shaw shook her head as she helped Root slide off of her lap. “It’s no fun if you do it to yourself.”

 

“I seem to recall many an occasion when we both quite enjoyed my doing myself.”

 

“It never ceases to amaze me how you can go from half dead to the brothel’s sauciest whore in an instant.”

 

Root scowled, “Frequented many brothels have you, Shaw?”

 

She smirked, not Sameen or Sweetie. She had struck a nerve. “I did have a life before I met you.”

 

“Where? Which ones?” Root had a look in her eye like she was plotting on burning them all down. “Make me a list.” Yep, definitely thinking of arson.

 

Shaw leaned forward to shut Root up with a quick kiss. When she pulled back, Root’s eyes were dazed again but for much more pleasant reasons. Shaw smirked. “Please, like I ever had to pay for it.” She put her hands on the edge of the pool and vaulted up and out of the water.

 

“You’re not funny,” Root chided her, coming to her senses again.

 

Shaw chuckled as she began to dig into the pack Anya had given her. Bear took her exiting the pool as an invitation to circle the area and greet Root himself. He poked the uninjured side of her head with his muzzle and then gave her cheek a good lick. Root grinned, “Where did you come from?”

 

“John and Carter brought him.” Shaw unrolled a large blanket and spread it out across the cave floor.

 

“Uncle Harry?”

 

“Uncle Harry,” Shaw confirmed. “Of course his little warning came a few days too late to be of any help.”

 

“You know his relationship with her isn’t as intimate as mine,” Root replied. “I’m sure he did his best.”

 

“In this instance his best was about as useful as horse shit,” She stopped and put a hand on her hip. “Less than that actually, there are several excellent uses for horse shit.” For instance, the pile she was going to leave in his favorite reading nook the next time they were at the palace.

 

“Sameen,” Root groaned. “Do you honestly expect Uncle Harry to see something that she couldn’t tell me herself?”

 

“Seeing as she didn’t tell you...”

 

“Because of the guild,” Root cut her off, “They’re working with Greer in some capacity.”

 

“Yeah, that she did fill me in on while you were napping.”

 

“She did?”

 

“Uh huh,” Shaw muttered as she focused on sorting the medical supplies from the bag. “You never told me god had a voice like a nightmare.”

 

Now that, Root found rather puzzling. “Is that really how she sounds to you?”

 

Shaw turned and regarded Root. “If I was one to get scared, that voice would do it. Seriously, if John heard it he’d wet himself, it’s that creepy.” She shook her head. “You mean to say, you like it?”

 

Root nodded, “It’s comforting.” She scratched under Bear’s chin as she gathered her thoughts. “I don’t hear it the same way I hear you or Bear or the bubbling of the water. When She speaks to me, her voice is simply there in my head. It’s almost like I feel it more than I hear it.” She shook her head. “That probably makes no sense to you. Suffice it to say, She has always sounded bright, airy, like a blade of grass caught in the wind on a sunny afternoon.”

 

“Okay, no,” Shaw’s expression turned sour. “That is not the voice I heard at all. Didn’t even sound human, even though I could see your lips forming the words, let alone airy.”

 

She thought about it for a moment. “It must sound different when she physically speaks through a vessel. Perhaps manifesting it in a way that someone other than me can hear it, distorts her voice somehow?”

 

“For your sake, I freaking hope so.” Because if not, she was far madder than Shaw had ever imagined possible.

 

Root giggled at the look of disgust on Shaw’s face. “I can’t believe she spoke to you.” That little tableau with Control was necessary. She had to be made well aware of the reckoning any further meddling would bring down upon her head. No, speaking to Sameen was quite another matter altogether.  She’d never even opted to communicate with Uncle Harold in such a fashion. The fact that She found Sameen so worthy, Root sighed. Her girl was a marvel.

 

“Kind of a shock to me too, Root.” Shaw walked around the pool and knelt by Root’s head. “I mean you’re not completely insane.”

 

“Or we’re both a little mad,” Root countered.

 

Shaw shrugged, she probably couldn’t argue that. “Can you stand?”

 

Flirting was one thing, contemplating the mysteries of God’s voice another. Actually having to move from this spot? Root wasn’t sure she was up for that quite yet. But for Sameen she’d try. “Probably, for a heartbeat.”

 

“Scoot up a bit then.”

 

“Sameen, what are you…oh,” She gasped as Shaw hauled her out of the pool with a hand under each of her armpits. “Sometimes I forget how strong you are. You’re such a tiny thing.” Root swayed a bit as she tried to get her feet under her. Shaw steadied her as she finally managed to stand at her full height.

 

“The word your looking for is compact,” Shaw growled as she bent slightly to wrap an arm under Root’s knees. In a breath she was standing upright again with Root cradled in her arms. “Or bad ass. Never tiny.”

 

“Adorable?”

 

“I will drop you,” Shaw growled as they began to move away from the water’s edge.

 

Root shivered though it wasn’t from fear. She knew Sameen would never actually drop her. Not when she was already wounded anyway. “It is a little cold in here.”

 

“I told you that.” Shaw gently set her down on to the blanket she had set out. “We’ll have to get you warmed up a bit before I carry you out of here.” Bear trotted over and lay down behind Root so she could use him as a back rest. Once they were settled, Shaw turned and began digging through the supplies she’d laid out. The move put her ass in her now skin tight pants on rather glorious display.

 

“Don’t go making all of my fantasies come true at once,” Root giggled.

 

Shaw rolled her eyes. Finding what she was looking for, she handed Root one of the vials of Daizo’s healing tonic. “Drink that.”

 

Unlike Shaw when she was given the concoction, Root uncorked the vial right away. She downed the entire thing in one gulp. Then she smacked her lips together. “Minty.”

 

That earned her a raised eyebrow. “You’re not worried about what was in it?”

 

“Well, clearly mint,” Root teased. “I trust you implicitly, Sameen.”

 

“Even after my past came to kick us in the ass?” She should have gone after the guild after they attacked her and Cole. She should have never left the matter to fester all these years. Root and Gen had to pay for her mistake. She hated it.

 

“Sweetie, you know my world revolves around you…” Another eye roll. “But this?” Root waved her right arm around. “I earned this all on my own merit. Control was trying to give history’s worst job offer, while simultaneously fishing for information about Samaritan’s remains. When I was my usual, charming self-things got messy.”

 

“Still, I…”

 

“No,” Root cut her off. “They would have come after me regardless.” She smirked. “You’re a lucky woman, Sameen. I’m sort of a big deal.”

 

“You’re a pain in my ass.”

 

The smirk morphed into a wicked smile. “And you and I both know how much you enjoy pain.”

 

Shaw sniffed, “I swear to god.”

 

“Well, you are on speaking terms now…”

 

Shaw crossed her arms over her chest. “One of these days I’m going to slip you something for real.”

 

“Oh Sameen, if you ever kill me I know you’re going to use your hands to do it.” She licked her lips. “I’d invite you to use them right now, but the flesh is a tad weak at the moment.”

 

Shaw shuffled over to crouch beside her. “The tonic should help with that. But the last thing we need is you getting sick on top of your wounds, so let’s get you out of those wet clothes.” She probably should have done that before letting Root sit on that blanket.

 

“I should get kidnapped more often if this is the result,” Root leered at her.

 

Didn’t she just say that she was too tired for that sort of thing? Shaw pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. She could feel an extra special, Root-sized headache coming on. “Seriously…”

 

“What?” She shrugged. “Call me overdramatic…”

 

“Done,” Shaw snorted.

 

“I know it was only a couple of days but for a moment there I was scared,” Root looked down and bit her lip, “And I missed you.”

 

Shaw mumbled something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like an “I think was scared too.”

 

Root blinked at her. Well, wasn’t that a shock.

 

Shaw looked like she was almost as amazed as Root that she had said it. But Root also knew how uncomfortable that acknowledgement would make her partner, so she opted for distracting her. “What was that? You’ll have to speak up Sameen. I only have the one functioning ear.” She pointed to her right ear to emphasize her statement.

 

Shaw made a choking sound, “What in the hell?” That explained the bandage and the blood. Shaw had thought Hersh’s boys had just been too overzealous when knocking Root out to bring her in. But this, this was a whole other level.

 

Root cocked her head to the side, unwittingly providing Shaw with a better view of the bloodstained bandage concealing her right ear. “Too soon?”

 

Shaw leapt to her feet. “Oh I am going to castrate Hersh before I end him, and then I’m going to find Control and shove my boot so far up her ass she’ll…” She began to pace back and forth. Curses in several languages spewed from her lips with every step she took.

 

Root went from teasing to serious in an instant given Shaw’s rapidly deteriorating demeanor. “I’ll be alright, Sameen.”

 

“Like hell you will.” Shaw shook her head. She needed to hit something. No she needed to end something. To stomp it into the dirt until there was nothing left but a gooey paste, and then she needed to set that on fire. “Every single one of them is dead. Bodies just haven’t hit the ground yet.”

 

“Sweetie...”

 

Shaw ceased her pacing and came back to kneel at Root’s left side. “No, we’re not doing any of your turn the other cheek, voices in the sky appealing to our better natures, crap.” Shaw reached out and cupped her right cheek with so much gentle care it made Root want to weep. “There’s no honor in this. They don’t deserve any back.”

 

“Things like this happen in war,” She tried to reason.

 

“And there are meant to be repercussions so that the next idiot who picks a fight doesn’t think he can get away with them.” Shaw bowed her head. “They almost killed you, Root.” They may still have if that wound became infected. The thought felt like claws ripping through her chest from the inside out.

 

“And yet I’m still here.”

 

Shaw was grateful. But it never should have happened in the first place. “Don’t ask me to just let this go.”

 

Root gently took her hand away from her face and wound their fingers together. “There’s a season for everything, Sameen. We need information more than we need vengeance at the moment. Greer was willing to involve the guild in this. He must think there is something he can do with Samaritan’s remains to turn the tide of this war.”

 

“I can get you both retribution and information.” Hersh was still tied up at camp. Shaw was sure that Anya would be more than happy to let her do a little hands on interrogating of her prisoner.

 

“Let’s just play it by ear…” Root grimaced, “Well, that phrase has taken on a new tenor.” She scrunched her nose, “I’m honestly not even trying to do the punning thing now.”

 

Shaw’s lips ticked up in a fond grin, “Pretty sure it’s the same as breathing to you at this point.”

 

“Which, again, I’m still doing by the way.”

 

“Keep it up and maybe I’ll forgive you for getting yourself kidnapped.” Shaw squeezed her hand and then pulled away. Root reluctantly let her go. She reached down and took the hem of Root’s shirt into her hands and gently eased it over her head.

 

“To be honest the kidnapping wasn’t part of my original plan.”

 

“You don’t say?” Shaw tossed the shirt aside. She then made quick work of the laces on Root’s pants. She wrapped an arm around her waist. “Lift up.” Root raised her hips and together they worked the sodden leather down her thighs. Shaw let her sit back down and then pulled the pants the rest of the way off.

 

“I think there was a smaller blanket in the pack.” She stood and went back over to the bag.

 

Root picked at the material she was sitting on. “Where did you get this anyway? The weaving looks…” She trailed off.

 

“Like Tree People made it?” Shaw grinned. “Yeah, seems like I’m better at making friends than you are.”

 

“Lies.”

 

“Okay, we got off to a sort of rocky start. Mainly, John’s fault by the way. But General Anya did provide me with most of this stuff.” Shaw triumphantly held out a second blanket. She quickly returned to Root’s side to wrap it around her shoulders.

 

“What’s she doing all the way out here?”

 

Shaw went back to the bag to gather up the supplies she needed to tend to Root’s wounds. “Apparently some of their relics have gone missing lately. Her men were watching the roads into their territory when your possessed ass stumbled past.” Shaw swallowed, “Sort of owe them. They kept Hersh from catching up to you.”

 

“And they’re still holding him?”

 

“Just waiting for me to get back and castrate his ass.” Shaw sat down in front of Root and reached for the bandage on her arm. She’d take care of the easiest stuff before she took a look at that ear. She had the feeling she’d only have so much time to work before she got too pissed to keep her hands steady once she saw the full extent of the damage there. Better to save it for last.

 

Root cleared her throat.

 

Shaw blinked up at her. “What?”

 

She reached out and plucked at the material of Shaw’s over shirt. “You’re dripping all over the place. Strip.”

 

“It’s fine. I don’t get cold as easily as you do.”

 

“Sameen it’s only fair.” She bit her lip, “And the view will be a balm for my pain.” Shaw rolled her eyes but pulled both tunics up and over her head. Root pointed, “Pants too.”

 

Shaw shook her head. “This is all the show you’re getting for now.”

 

Root pouted. “Fine.” She sighed. “I suppose I can work with this.”

 

“Uh huh,” Shaw absently replied as she unwound the bandage around Root’s arm. She gently rotated her arm to look at the wound. At least whoever had done the stitches had been halfway competent. She’d only need a dry bandage.

 

“Will I live?” Root chuckled.

 

“You damn well better.”

 

“Aye ma’am!”

 

“Whatever,” Shaw scoffed as she tied off the new bandage. She looked Root in the eyes to check her pupils. “Do you feel light headed or feverish?”

 

“Whenever I’m with you.”

 

“Seriously?”

 

“What?” Root shrugged. “You like the way I sweet talk you. You wouldn’t have come all the way out here to rescue me if you didn’t.”

 

“And yet you did all the heavy lifting before I even got here.”

 

“Well, I am a capable woman in my own right, Sweetie.” She bit her lip. “Though I still plan on rewarding you quite thoroughly for your trouble once I heal up a bit.”

 

“In that case maybe you should shut up and hold still so we can get to that part sooner?”

 

“The fact that you’re so goal oriented is one of the first things that attracted me to you Sameen. Do you know what the very first thing was?”

 

“My ass…”

 

“Your ass.”

 

Shaw tilted her head to the side in thought. “Pretty sure you told me you read some report about me before you ever saw me.”

 

“True, but Zoe told me you had a nice ass before I read it.”

 

“Zoe thinks I have a nice ass?” Oh Shaw couldn’t wait to tell Reese that one.

 

“The woman’s not blind,” Root replied. “Though I did wonder for a long time given who she was bedding down with.”

 

“Lean forward,” Shaw instructed her. “I don’t think your ribs are broken but I’m going to wrap them just in case.” She began winding a length of clean bandage around Root’s torso.

 

Root took it as an opportunity to lean forward and kiss her on the cheek. “You take such good care of me.”

 

“I’d rather not have to,” Shaw grumbled. “I was serious about making an example out of Hersh and Control.”

 

“Sameen…”

 

“We’ll do it smart. Get the information we need on Greer out of them first. Once that’s done they’re mine though.” Shaw focused on her hands as she worked to tie the bandage around itself to hold everything in place.

 

Root stared at her. “What?” Shaw asked. She shook her head. She reached out and pulled what was left of the roll of bandages from her hand. “Root, what?” She shook her head and took Shaw’s sword hand into hers.

 

“Alright Sameen,” Root sighed as she wound the bandage around her knuckles. The guild was a threat that had been allowed to linger far too long. Root’s actions in the trading post had given them ample reason to fear the consequences of ever returning to Thornhill, but if Shaw really needed to do this… “Have your chat with Hersh. And once we’ve dealt with Greer, Control is all yours. I won’t stop you.”

 

Shaw raised an eyebrow, “Really?” She looked up at the ceiling. “Your not so imaginary friend is okay with that?”

 

Root cocked her head to the side for a moment. She smiled as her god’s voice came to her as clear as ever. “She says if Control is foolish enough not to heed her warning and crosses your path again with ill intentions, then there’s nothing she can do to change her fate.”

 

“Just like that?”

 

Root smiled, as she tied off the bandage. “Just like that.”

 

“We have a deal then.”

 

“Absolutely.” Root pointed to Shaw’s shoulder, “We need to change the bandage on that wound too.”

 

Shaw held up her hand. “I was saving the rest of this for your head. But I think there’s more bandages in the pack.” She stood up and went back over to their supplies.

 

“There wouldn’t happen to be any apples in that bag, would there?”

 

Shaw chuckled, “Sorry, I didn’t get to place an order ahead of time with the quartermaster.” Though she was glad to hear Root was interested in some food. She found the roll of bandages she wanted. After a moment she shook her head and dropped them back into the bag. She grabbed the entire pack. It was getting ridiculous going back and forth for things.

 

She dug around in the bag as she came back over to the blanket. As she sat back down she held up a small bundle. “There’s jerky of some kind.”

 

Root frowned, “I’ll pass.”

 

“You need to eat something.”

 

“That much chewing can’t be good for my headache.”

 

“Root!” Shaw snapped. “You’re supposed to tell me any symptoms you’re having so I can treat your wounds properly.”

 

“Sameen,” Root deadpanned. “I’m getting a headache.”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes. “Weirdly enough, so am I.”

 

“We’re so in sync.”

 

“I don’t have much here by the way of pain killers.”

 

“Its fine,” Root sighed. “I’m not really wild about the idea of taking too many tonics at the moment.”

 

She could definitely understand that. “I’ll get us out of here as soon as I can.”

 

“Now that I’m with you again, I’m in no rush to go anywhere.”

 

“Well I don’t really want to stick around in a bunch of haunted caves.” Shaw swallowed. “You probably missed it during your little walkabout, but there’s some really freaky shit down here.”

 

“She says we’re safe. We’re hers. The spirits won’t touch us no matter how long we remain.”

 

“She tell you that in her leaf on the wind voice?”

 

Root poked at Shaw with her foot. “It was a blade of grass…”

 

“Whatever.”

 

Root took the satchel from Shaw’s hand. She reached in and took out the bandages. She waved at Shaw to lean forward. Careful fingers pulled the old bandage away from the arrow wound on her shoulder. “I see you’ve been taking very good care of yourself while I was away.”

 

“Had other things on my mind,” Shaw grumbled.

 

“If you get to yell at me about not telling you about a tiny headache then you have to take better care of your wounds.” Root scolded her. “Don’t think I didn’t notice the extra gash on your back.”

 

Shaw had honestly forgotten about that. “Daizo needs to be more specific about the blast radius of his toys.”

 

“Exploding orb?” Root asked with a raised eyebrow.

 

“You been holding out on me?”

 

“I wanted it to be a surprise for our anniversary.”

 

“We don’t have an anniversary.”

 

“Oh yes we do. Several in fact.”

 

“Well, don’t expect me to get you gifts for every made up occasion that crosses your mind.” The King didn’t pay that well for her services.

 

“Actually, Root drawled, “I can think of the perfect gift. It will take a little while but…”

 

Shaw shook her head, “I’m going to regret asking.”

 

“Perhaps it makes me terribly petty,” Root continued on as if Shaw hadn’t spoken. She pointed to her right ear. “But honestly, I think I’ll rather enjoy watching you shove one of Lady Claypool’s own knitting needles down her throat for causing us all this trouble.”

 

Shaw blinked at her. “Excuse me what?”

 

 


	8. Detrimental Dysfunction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost done. There'll be a bit of a coda up in the next couple of days to wrap this chapter up and lay a bit of foundation for things going forward (Since it seems y'all voted a resounding yes to going forward with more of this madness).

 

Two Months Later

 

King Harold watched the activity in the small private courtyard below his study with avid eyes. “She’s making good progress,” Ser Reese rumbled behind him.

 

The King glanced over his shoulder and gave his friend a nod. He hadn’t expected Ser Reese and his party for another three hours. They had made exceptionally good time. He turned back to continue his watch. “Samantha is getting stronger every day.”

 

“I’m glad to hear it.”

 

Harold nodded. John had seen her injuries first hand when they were fresh. He knew exactly how far she had come. He had come exceptionally far as well, showing such concern for a woman he had once dubbed a walking menace. The pair of them had almost come to blows many times when Harold had first brought her to court. A part of Harold longed for those simpler times. “I do question Ser Shaw’s training technique.”

 

Said technique involved lobbing balls at Root while she walked along a balance beam. A balance beam that now rested several feet above the cobblestone lined section of the royal family’s private gardens. In addition to losing her hearing in her right ear, Root’s sense of balance had been completely thrown off by her injury. Ser Shaw had dragged Michael Cole and his assistant Dani Silva to the castle one afternoon not long after they had returned to the capitol for Root to recuperate after her run in with the guild. The three of them had spent several hours constructing and placing the adjustable beam as well as several other obstacles that dotted the courtyard below. His niece had refused to allow her injury to keep her from serving the crown and Ser Shaw had taken it upon herself to insure that she was fully fit before returning to duty.

 

It was admirable, even if Harold also found it a bit foolhardy.

 

Reese came to stand beside him. He nodded to the scene below. “Wasn’t that thing lower to the ground before I left?”

 

By several feet in fact. “It adjusts,” Harold replied. “They’ve been increasing the height by increments every few days. I believe they have finally reached its apex.” He had to admit, it was a clever design.

 

“She’ll take a nasty hit if she falls.”

 

“Samantha never considers that falling is even a possibility.” It was one of the few ways she resembled her father. Ironic that a man who never feared, died of fright. If only he had been a better man. None of them would be where they are now. Harold sighed. His thoughts were taking a turn for the maudlin. Surely, fatigue was to blame. He hadn’t slept well the night before. It seemed to be becoming a common occurrence as of late.

 

“It’s part of what makes her so good at what she does,” Reese noted. “If you’re unafraid, you don’t hesitate where others would. It’s an advantage.”

 

“Not always.” Harold adjusted his spectacles. “A measure of caution has saved a great many soldiers.”

 

“It’s a balance.”

 

“Oh the irony,” Harold drawled.

 

“Pardon?”

 

The king waved the question off, “How goes the search?” He had sent Ser Reese on a very special, very secret mission weeks ago. “I’m assuming since you didn’t formally announce yourself at the gates of the city, that you’ve returned empty handed?”

 

“The house was abandoned just like the property here in the city.” Reese leaned his elbows on the railing. “The villagers said that the girl and her keeper were there one day and gone the next. Just vanished overnight. I sent Wells further down the coast, maybe she can find something.”

 

Not a bad strategy. “She is our second best tracker.” The best actually if you excluded his niece’s extra advantages.

 

Reese nodded, “She is, but something tells me there will be nothing for her to find.”

 

Harold shared that feeling. “It’s no surprise that Lady Claypool is being extra careful.”

 

“After what she did to Root, it’s only smart to want to look after her own.” He had been surprised to hear that the rather severe woman had a child. But Harold’s information came from the most impeccable of sources, so he had no doubt that she had moved swiftly to protect the girl after everything that had occurred. They weren’t Decima, they would not have harmed the child had Reese had found her in the village, but she was a weak point in Control’s armor.

 

Reese watched as Shaw threw another ball at Root’s head. She wobbled a bit on the beam as she dodged the projectile, but ultimately kept her feet. It was quite the improvement given how poor her balance had been after her injury. “Shaw’s out for blood, and Control knows it.”

 

“Which is exactly why she was not informed of your quest.” The woman was volatile on a good day. After everything that had happened… Harold rubbed his chin in thought. His eyes narrowed as Gen stepped into the courtyard. “Do you believe she’d harm a child?”

 

“Of course not. Shaw follows a code.” She could be ruthless. He’d seen that with his own eyes. But she’d never cross that line with someone truly innocent. He glanced over at the king, “But people like Control believe everyone will fight just as dirty as they do.”

 

“I imagine that Ser Shaw and Lady Claypool received similar training in the guild. Lady Claypool obviously held a position of power even when Shaw was a member, seeing as she now rules over the entire organization.” If she hadn’t been overthrown for her recent failure that is. “She may be more aware of what Ser Shaw is capable of than we are.”

 

There was something in his tone, an underlying current of suspicion that gave Reese pause. “You still don’t trust Shaw after all these years?”

 

“She has served Thornhill exceptionally well and I truly believe that she is devoted to Samantha in her own way…” He trailed off, uncharacteristically unable to finish articulating his thoughts.

 

Reese cleared his throat. “I mean no offense, Majesty.”

 

“We’re alone Ser Reese, such formality isn’t necessary.”

 

“Very well,” He replied. “You didn’t answer my question. Is there some reason you still don’t trust Shaw?” He had knighted the woman. Allowed her to become engaged to his niece. Technically she was one of his heirs now. Those facts would seem to denote a certain level of trust. He didn’t understand why Harold was so suddenly concerned.

 

“It’s not a matter of trust,” Harold sighed. “I believe she would defend Samantha and Gen with her life. It is how far she’s willing to go in order to defend them.”

 

Reese was still at a loss as to where this was all coming from. “You question her methods?”

 

“She’s an assassin.” Ser Reese himself had informed him of what Shaw had done to the young catalyst she had caught searching The Groves. The measures she had taken to gain information on the guild’s communications with Decima from Hersh. They were actions unbecoming of a Knight of Thornhill. And he knew with a profound certainty that she would do the same should either of his nieces be threatened in such a way ever again.

 

“So is Root.”

 

“She’s family.” Though it was an unfortunate truth, that his niece’s hands were stained with more blood than he could measure. Some of it even by his order.

 

“So is Shaw, if you ask Root.” Reese grinned as Shaw waved Gen over and shoved several balls into her arms. “Gen too.” The girl laughed as she lobbed a few balls at her sister. Root twisted and twirled away from each one.

 

“I know,” Harold sighed. The grin slid form Reese’s face as he watched Shaw pick up a crossbow and point it towards Root. Harold’s eyes widened behind his spectacles giving him a particularly owlish appearance. “Is that advisable?”

 

“Not at all,” Reese drawled. Though Root seemed to be egging Shaw on to fire. He wondered exactly whose bad idea this was. “But do you want to go down there and order her not to do it?”

 

“Perhaps we should summon my physician?”

 

“Maybe we should see how this plays out first?” Root wouldn’t appreciate the gesture. In fact, she’d probably feel insulted and try to get Shaw to turn the crossbow on anyone foolish enough to try and intercede.

 

They watched in silence as Shaw fired a bolt in Root’s direction. In an instant she was hanging from the beam by her arms, her toes barely dragging the ground. Reese could tell she was laughing. Harold’s eyes narrowed almost to slits. “And you wonder why I have my concerns.”

 

“Root was pulling insane stunts like that well before she met Shaw,” Reese replied. “The present situation notwithstanding, she’s more cautious now that she has someone to go home to.”

 

“She had her family before. Her kingdom.”

 

“You and I both know it’s not the same.” Harold sighed. Reese knew he was probably thinking about Grace. Living for your kingdom was all well and good until you had to face an empty bed night after night. The king should have known that better than anyone. “Watch them, Harold,” Reese pointed “Root trusts her implicitly.”

 

“She’s in love. That tends to blind one to many harsh realities.” He was speaking from his own experience. Harold cocked an eyebrow as Root narrowly dodged another projectile by swinging from the beam by one hand. It was a near miss this time. “Such as the average speed of a crossbow bolt.”

 

“Don’t you think she’d know if we had anything to fear from Shaw? You and I both know Root has an advantage when it comes to insight. Unless…” Reese tensed his jaw, “Have you had a vision? Have you received a warning about Shaw?”

 

“No.” Harold shook his head. He looked down at his hands as they rested against the railing. “This will sound ridiculous.”

 

“I’ve spent a great deal of time with Root, how ridiculous can you be in comparison?”

 

“True,” Harold smiled for an instant. Then his face fell. He took a deep breath to steady himself and began to explain. “The events leading to my niece’s injury, the fact that the guild has made inroads to my very court completely unnoticed, the rumblings from Decima…it feels like an ill wind is gaining speed. There’s a storm on the horizon and I have missed the early signs. It makes me question many of my past choices.”

 

That sort of made sense to Reese except for one glaring detail, “And the first thing you worry about is Shaw?”

 

“Not nearly the first,” Harold sighed. He looked up at the sky. “I had known Arthur Claypool for years and wasn’t a bit suspicious of that woman. In fact, after he passed I welcomed her into court with open arms.”

 

“So you’re transferring. You weren’t suspicious enough in Claypool’s case so now suddenly you’re being overly suspicious about Shaw.”

 

Harold tilted his head, considering it. “Is that what I’m doing?”

 

“Did you doubt Shaw’s loyalties and methods before now?”

 

He shook his head. “Not once she agreed to the betrothal on condition of my releasing Root from the dungeons.” The fact that she was willing to enter into a marriage in order to secure the freedom of an ally spoke volumes about her character. Or at least it had at the time.

 

“Then let this go.”

 

“I wish I could. I tell myself that I should. Yet it’s as if a veil has been lifted from my eyes.” He sighed again. “I see conspiracies behind every smiling face. Who among them is reaching out to me with one hand and concealing a knife in the other?”

 

“Maybe none of them, maybe all.” Reese shrugged, “Though Lady Claypool never smiled all that much.”

 

“Perhaps I should have taken that as a sign.” Shaw didn’t smile that often either. Unless she was fighting or in the presence of his nieces.

 

“You have me for a reason, and Zoe, and Carter. You can’t tell me you question where their loyalties lie?”

 

“I can’t. I don’t. But she fooled all of us.” None of them had suspected a thing. He turned to face Reese fully, “And if she could do so, then so could others.”

 

“Zoe is already discretely looking into any of the nobles who favored Claypool. Should we need to clean house...”

 

“I know it’s necessary but it feels unseemly.” His mouth turned down into a pronounced frown. “Here I am questioning Sameen’s loyalties, while employing my top advisors in to actions that could result…”

 

“In a need for assassins?” Reese finished for him.

 

He nodded. “And yet the good of the kingdom must come first, before even my honor, my morality.”

 

“May not come to that,” Reese noted. “It’s not like Zoe has found anything to be concerned about so far.”

 

“I pray that she does not.”

 

“Speaking of prayer, have you tried asking?”

 

Harold snorted, “I am not Samantha. I am only shown what the dragon wishes me to know. Not the other way around.”

 

Reese raised an eyebrow. He had never heard the king speak about his family’s patron in such a bitter tone before. “You’re really worried about this.”

 

“A snake at Thornhill’s very breast and not a single warning until after it was poised to strike. We have relied far too long on insight that has proven capricious at best.” He looked back down to the courtyard. “War is at our doorstep. If I continue to look to outside forces for aid, I fear Thornhill will fall.”

 

“We won’t let that happen.”

 

“It may not be up to us.”

 

“Sounding so defeated is unlike you.”

 

Harold’s shoulders slumped. “I’m afraid I haven’t had much rest as of late. Perhaps, it’s the source of my pessimism.”

 

Tensions had been high since he had received the vision of Gen and Shaw fleeing The Groves. Things didn’t improve much when they recovered Root only for her to be so gravely injured. Toss in traitors in their midst? Well, Reese could understand why the king’s nights were restless. “Do you wish to postpone the unveiling?”

 

“Not at this point, it’s still over a month away.” It would be another headache for sure. But a necessary one. Plans had been in motion far too long to back out now. “The kingdom’s needs don’t disappear simply because I’m feeling paranoid. The people need something to celebrate.”

 

“True,” Reese nodded. Relations with Decima were as tense as ever. Even the common people were expecting a full on war to break out any day now. The late snowstorm had moved across the river and through the Blackwood to the heart of the kingdom, causing a delay in the spring planting. The farmers had been working to the point of near exhaustion in order to make up the time. “But that paranoia has served you well in the past.”

 

“Yet you don’t believe it does in this case.” He watched as the women below moved to another section of the obstacle course. This time Ser Shaw joined his niece jumping from platform to platform, while Gen threw objects at the both of them. He almost smiled as Shaw purposely slowed her movement to block a ball from hitting Root with her chest. Perhaps, John was correct and he was being needlessly suspicious.

 

“I don’t. Not with Shaw,” Reese agreed causing Harold to turn his attention back to their conversation. “Everyone has a past. But almost everyone has the capacity to learn and grow from it and become a better person if given the right purpose.”

 

“I thought you were a knight not a philosopher?” Reese shrugged. Harold’s lips curled up in the smallest of grins, “And where did such a wise observation originate from, Ser Reese?”

 

“Some squirrely looking noble who signed a drunken, out of work mercenary on as a bodyguard, said something similar to me years ago.”

 

“Sounds like an interesting fellow.”

 

“He has his moments.”

 

“Still, almost everyone?”

 

“I’m a realist, Harold.” He looked down at the smiling women. “There are few people as fortunate as the two of them.”

 

Later that evening, Root and Shaw returned to their chambers after a lengthy meal served in honor of Ser Reese’s return. Shaw kicked off her boots by the door. While Root proceeded into their bedroom and took a seat at her dressing table before sliding out of the flat slippers she had worn that evening in deference to her aching feet. Running the obstacle course over and over tended to wear on one’s arches.

 

“Are you disappointed the Knight Commander came back empty handed?” She asked as Shaw moved around the sitting room. Root strained to listen with her good ear, and chuckled when she heard the sound of a bottle being uncorked. She knew there hadn’t been nearly enough alcohol served with dinner for Sameen’s tastes.

 

“No,” Shaw snorted. She stepped into the bedroom taking a drink straight from the bottle. Root smiled when she noticed the goblet of wine in her right hand. Shaw took another hearty swig from the bottle before setting the goblet on the table beside Root’s elbow.

 

“I would have been disappointed in Control for being sloppy enough to leave him anything to find after all the trouble she caused.” The bitch should at least be courteous enough to present a challenge. Not that she’d escape Shaw’s grasp should she be stupid enough to move against Root or Thornhill again. Shaw set the bottle on her bedside table, before flopping down across their bed. “Though can’t say I’m feeling all that warm and fuzzy about John and your uncle thinking I didn’t know exactly what was going on.”

 

“They think they’re so clever,” Root chuckled, before taking a sip of her wine.

 

“Your uncle probably didn’t think She’d tell you what they were up to.”

 

“Wasn’t like it was hard to figure out. I could have discerned their target even without her tattling on them.” Of course Uncle Harry had sent his lackey to Honnahli to search Control’s other estate. Though if he had actually expected to find anything of substance there, then he really was losing his touch.

 

“You ever think about how weird it is that you use words like tattle when talking about acts of god?”

 

“No,” Root smirked at Shaw through the reflection in the mirror. “But then again I’m still getting used to you referring to her as god.”

 

Shaw held up her hands knowing Root could see her. “Hey, I know when I’m licked.”

 

“You most certainly will be in a moment,” Root drawled, though she kept her seat at the dressing table. She needed to remove the pins from her hair. Shaw was rather cross when she rolled over and got poked in the ass with one the other day.

 

“Take your time. I got nowhere else to be.”

 

“You better not,” Root teased.

 

“I barely have the energy to keep up with you,” Shaw replied. She had been up early that morning to drill some new recruits in Reese’s absence before spending some time with Cole down at the forge. She’d put in nearly a full day before joining Root in the courtyard for her exercises. “We really didn’t need to run the obstacle course full out that last time.”

 

“You questioned my skills in front of Gen,” Root countered. “I had to defend my honor.”

 

“And yet I still beat you.”

 

“Barely.” It was true. Root had made a remarkable recovery. Shaw would say her sense of balance was almost back to normal, and her stamina may even be a bit better than before given the extra effort she had put into her conditioning. “I’ll get you next time.”

 

“Keep dreaming, Princess.” On flat ground her longer limbs may provide her an advantage, but on the training course Shaw was as agile as they come. She’d held the record on a similar course back at the guildhall. Many had tried to beat her, none had succeeded.

 

“There’s no need to be rude.”

 

“Only you would consider your title as a slur.”

 

“Really, Royal Consort?”

 

Shaw scowled, “I see your point.”

 

Root laughed. “Don’t worry. I doubt anyone other than I would be brave enough to refer to you in that way to your face.” Not that there were all that many that knew the title could apply to Sameen in the first place.

 

“Give Zoe enough to drink and I bet she’d try it.”

 

She considered it for a moment. “True. Zoe is rather brazen when she gets far enough into her cups.”

 

“That woman is far too much fun for the likes of John.”

 

“He is a lucky little troll.”

 

“Probably getting luckier by the minute.”

 

“Ugh Sameen,” Root groaned. “Must you?”

 

“Yes,” Shaw deadpanned. “That little eye twitch thing you do whenever you picture John naked is just too hilarious.”

 

“You’re an evil woman.” Root shook her head, though the look on her face was fond. “Why do I put up with you?”

 

“Whenever I ask myself that question about you, the answer is generally orgasms.”

 

Root nodded sagely, “An excellent answer.”

 

“You up for a few tonight?”

 

“Well, you are plying me with wine,” Root chuckled before taking another sip. She licked her lips. It really was quite the vintage. She wondered where Shaw had stolen the bottle from.

 

“Like that’s even necessary,” Shaw scoffed. After a moment she frowned, “It’s just…You worked hard today.”

 

“Questioning my stamina now?”

 

“Root, come on. You’re still recovering.”

 

“I’m fine,” Root replied. “I’m perfectly capable of rendering you a sweaty, quivering heap. Even after an afternoon of hard labor.”

 

“Don’t forget the dinner of awkward small talk.”

 

“Definitely can’t forget that.” Root raked her fingers through her hair, searching for any errant pins. “Did Uncle Harry seem odd to you?”

 

“The man always seems odd to me,” Shaw huffed as she tried to shuffle out of her pants without leaving the bed. “Can you be more specific?”

 

“Uncle Harry has been a bit distracted as of late.” Shaw could tell Root was still watching her in the mirror. Two could play at that game. Giving up on her pants for the moment, Shaw toyed with the laces of her tunic, loosening them until the slope of her breasts could be seen at just the right angle. Then she arched her back as she stretched across the sheets. Root licked her lips and downed the rest of her wine in one gulp.

 

“Who’s distracted?” Shaw leered.

 

“What?”

 

Point, Shaw. She grinned as she settled back down, “You were saying about your uncle?”

 

“Oh.” Root shook her head as if to clear it, “He’s worried about something.”

 

“Of course he is. He’s not an idiot. He had rats within his walls and well,” She gestured at Root. “He cares about you.”

 

“I keep telling him I’m fine.”

 

“Yeah, well you’re not at your most convincing wearing your hair up like you did tonight.” The jagged pink line behind Root’s right ear still made Shaw want to punch things. Who knows what sort of feelings it stirred up in someone like the king. Shaw had noticed how his eyes kept returning to the scar during dinner this evening.

 

And to her for that matter. Shaw knew he blamed her for what happened. She was supposed to protect Root and that scar was a permanent reminder that she had failed.

 

“I thought you liked my hair up?” Root pouted.

 

Shaw rolled her eyes, “You looked hot. You always look hot. But I don’t think how you wear your hair has the same distracting effect on your uncle as it does on me.”

 

Root’s lips puckered and then she scowled. She spun around in her chair to face the bed. “That’s disgusting, Sameen.”

 

She pushed herself up on her elbows to glare back at Root. “Uh pretty sure I said it didn’t have that effect.”

 

“Thinking anything could have that effect on Uncle Harry though…”

 

“I’m sure something has.” Shaw chuckled at Root’s expression. “The guy’s not a monk.”

 

Root waved her hands as if she could physically shoo thoughts of her uncle in the throes of…well anything, away. “Why are we even discussing this?”

 

Shaw had lost the thread of this conversation a good deal of time ago. “Beats me.”

 

“Would you like me to?” Root smirked, standing up.

 

Shaw rolled her eyes and fell back on to the bed with a groan.


	9. Epilogue: Devoted to destruction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There once was an evil raisin who wore a crown...

 

Lord Travers straightened his cloak before nodding to the sentries to open the doors to the throne room. His attire was not up to the usual court standard. The tunic and breeches were clean however. He had made sure to stop just outside the capitol and change out of the sweat and dirt stained items he had worn on his journey from the coast. If he had his druthers he would have stopped at his estate in the city to change into something more befitting his station, rather than the inconspicuous garb he had donned for his mission, but he knew the king had been kept waiting long enough for his report.

 

It would not do to keep him waiting any longer. Especially, as the news Lord Travers had to deliver was that of a resounding failure.

 

With one last deep breath he stepped into the throne room. No one turned as his steps echoed against the stone floor. Six figures stood with their backs to him in a rough semi-circle before the ornate throne of Decima. He had always found it beautiful. The seat of power had been carved generations ago from one solid slab of black marble. It towered over the rest of the room. A symbol that he who claimed it towered over all.

 

The throne sat empty but he could hear the voice of King Greer the closer he came to the front of the room. “What about our shipment?”

 

“Lost sir. Pirates,” It was the traitor from Thornhill, Simmons, who answered. Travers carefully schooled his features. He had no idea why the king would continue to employ a man whose loyalties could be so easily bought. But it was not for Travers or anyone to question the king. He slowed his steps and came to stand just behind the assembly. Lady Rousseau gave him a brief nod and then returned her attention to the front of the room.

 

Travers could see a large table had been set just to the side of the throne. Simmons was pointing to a spot on a large nautical chart spread across it. “They are very active along the eastern coast lately for some reason.”

 

He could confirm that. The ship he sailed in on had encountered a smaller pirate band. Luckily his vessel had been well equipped to handle them. But Lord Travers knew for a fact that there were many more. Almost an entire armada it seemed. He had heard tales of them during his posting in the south. Had seen the masts of great ships in the distance during his travels north. And they seemed to have their sights set on any ships baring Decima’s flag.

 

The king was a slender man, with a heavily lined face, reflecting his age. Though it would be a grave error for any to consider his age a sign of frailty. Travers had seen King Greer put down younger, stronger men with his great intellect. He always thought several moves ahead of any opponent. Strength hardly mattered once one stumbled into the jaws of one of the king's carefully set traps. “Have Admiral Wicker here within three days to answer for this.”

 

Simmons clicked his heels together and bowed. “At your leave Majesty.”

 

King Greer waved the man off. Simmons stood and made his way out of the throne room. Once the doors closed behind him, King Greer resumed his seat in the throne. “Lady Mona,” He called.

 

A dark skinned woman stepped forward. “Majesty,” She curtsied.

 

“We hope you have been more successful in your endeavors for the crown?” His tone implied there would be grave consequences if the answer was no. Travers swallowed. Mona was a good girl. Well, she was a woman grown, but Travers had known her for a great many years and still saw her as a child to protect. He had fought beside her father and sworn to him on his death bed that he would see to his family’s protection. Mona, as the eldest child and heir, had taken his place at court. She was quick and bright. Lord Travers hoped whatever she had to tell the king was good news.

 

“I have, Majesty,” She confidently replied. “The agent is already in route.”

 

“Excellent.” Greer adjusted his signet ring. “And your search for mercenaries?”

 

“I’ve found a company that is amenable to your demands.”

 

“And they understand exactly what those demands entail?”

 

“Yes, Majesty.” She cleared her throat. “They only ask that Decima shelter them once the task is complete.”

 

“Of course, should they prove successful they will earn the crown’s trust. There will be much more work to be done to shepherd in our glorious new age.” He waved her off. “Go, see to the final arrangements. Report to Lady Rousseau when you have confirmation.”

 

“At once,” Mona sketched out another bow and sped from the room. Lord Travers released a breath as he watched her go. It appeared nothing much had changed during his time in the south. The king never kept many present for the full length of these briefings. He never wanted to afford anyone the luxury of knowing the full scope of his plans.

 

Travers discreetly looked around. Besides Lady Rousseau and himself only three others remained. One he knew. A hulk of a man with a closely shaved head and a sour expression, was one of the king’s personal guards. He was here as security nothing more.

 

The other two, however, were strangers to Travers. They were both fair skinned with dark hair. The shorter of the two was wearing white robes that showed various stains. A pair of spectacles sat halfway down a sharp nose on an otherwise unexceptional face. While the taller man was clad in a simple tunic and leather pants. Lord Travers would be hard pressed to pick either of them out of a crowd on a second viewing they were each so unremarkable.

 

What could their purpose be? Their posture was slack, so most likely not military advisors. He’d never seen either of them at court before this moment, so they were likely not of the noble class. Lord Travers also noted that Lady Rousseau stood well away from them. That implied either fear or distaste. And if he knew Martine well at all, he assumed distaste. He wondered what role these men had to play here.

 

“Lord Travers,” The King called breaking him from his thoughts. “You return to us after so many months.”

 

He bowed deeply at the waist before replying, “It is good to see the black spires rising towards the sun once again, my king.”

 

“We welcome you back, gladly.” He signaled for Travers to rise again. “And trust your journey was a smooth one.” King Greer raised an eyebrow, “No pirates to delay you?”

 

It was a dig, even if neither Simmons nor Admiral Wicker were present to hear it. Travers saw Lady Rousseau’s smirk from the corner of his eye. He was certain she would inform any who would listen of the slight once she was dismissed. “In truth we did encounter one such vessel. However, my escort was well equipped to put them down.”

 

“Perhaps we should place them in charge of our navy,” King Greer mused. “We shall in the very least have an open Admiralty, soon.”

 

Lord Travers wisely did not reply to the king’s musings on the matter.

 

“And what of Control and the guild, Lord Travers?”

 

He took a deep breath and stepped closer to the throne, “She was able to briefly acquire the woman, but she effected an escape without revealing to Control the location of Samaritan’s remains.”

 

He noticed the king’s grip tightening on the arm of the throne. “And the donation we generously provided the guild?”

 

“What wasn’t used in the attack was taken by the woman when she escaped.”

 

“Well, that is disappointing.”

 

Travers tensed his jaw. Would the king exercise his disappointment upon him in the absence of Control? He couldn’t read the king’s expression. So he opted to inform him of what steps he had already taken to express Greer’s displeasure, as damage control. “I took the liberty of retrieving the crown’s payment.” The three chests of gold were waiting downstairs under heavy guard.

 

“Excellent,” Greer nodded his approval. “Though if Control believes that will be the end of it, she is a fool.”

 

“Send me,” Lady Rousseau spoke up. “I’ll take care of Control and then get whatever information you need from Root.”

 

The king smiled. Travers had always found the expression particularly off putting on his face. “Martine my dear, you have other business to attend to. Control will pay for her incompetence in due time.”

 

He returned his attention to Travers. “Now that you have returned to us, we have much to prepare. There is much you must learn and not a great deal of time in which to do so.”

 

“I will endeavor to be swift at whatever task is put before me, Majesty.” As it seemed he had escaped Greer’s wrath for Control’s bungling, Travers would do whatever was necessary to remain in his good graces.

 

“For now all that is required is that you listen and learn,” Greer replied.

 

“And so I shall.” Lord Travers dipped his head. “Thank you, Majesty.” He stepped back.

 

“Stewart,” The King addressed one of the two strangers.

 

The shorter of the two men stepped forward and bowed. The move caused the spectacles he wore to nearly fall from his face. “M-majesty,” He stuttered while trying to discreetly keep the lenses on his face.

 

“It seems we’ll have to begin without the last artifact.”

 

Stewart raised his head in question, “Sir?”

 

“You did say it was only an additional measure of insurance. That it wasn’t strictly required for this test.”

 

“Yes,” Stewart nodded. He wiped his hands on the front of his robes. Travers would bet all his coin that was how the majority of the stains were accumulated. Such an odd fellow. “More material rather than less is always more ideal to work from. But the samples we already have should be more than enough for an initial trial.”

 

Greer tilted his head to the side and looked the man up and down, “You seem uncertain.”

 

“No,” He answered. “I mean no, Majesty. I mean I know we have enough to begin even without the last shipment.”

 

“Then we would like to begin right away.”

 

“Sir?” Stewart cleared his throat at Greer’s scowl. “Uh your Kingship? While I assure you that we do indeed have more than enough samples to proceed, the process will consume most of them if successful.”

 

“You should only be concerned with the process’ success.” He held up a hand to cut off Stewart’s reply. “Martine will acquire any materials needed for phase two.”

 

“It will be a pleasure,” Lady Rousseau drawled.

 

“And I’m sure she will be most efficient,” Stewart added. “If she could try and not smash any of the samples this time around though?”

 

“Concern yourself with your own efficiency,” She snapped. “Before I elect to smash something of yours.”

 

“Martine,” Greer held up a hand. “Peace.”

 

She dipped her head, properly cowed, “My apologies.”

 

“Your outburst though ill advised, held some truth,” Greer allowed. He turned to Stewart, “You would do well to keep your attentions on your own tasks.”

 

“Yes, of course,” Stewart bowed. “If I have your leave to go and do just that?”

 

“Yes,” King Greer rose from his throne. “This is a momentous day. We are taking the final steps into a new world.” He signaled for Stewart to rise. “Go now and do not falter.”

 

Stewart nodded and quickly exited the room. King Greer turned to the other stranger who had been standing silently the entire time. “Take your leave as well. Prepare the boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dun!  
> So that's the end of this tale. Thanks once again to everyone who read, commented and kudoed. Knowing that there are actually people out there who get a kick out of my silly ass ideas really makes my day. As always, I hope this (and all the tales in this crazy mashup) made yours a little brighter for the time spent reading them.


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